Garrison stifled an impulse to slap the fellow's face.
"What are your rights as a cousin, if I may ask?" he said.
"Wait and see," replied Robinson. "Dot was mighty fond of me once—hey, Dot?"
Garrison felt certain of his ground in suppressing the fellow.
"Whatever the situation may have been in the past," he said, "it is very much altered at present."
"Is that so?" demanded Theodore. "Perhaps you'll find the game isn't quite finished yet."
Dorothy, still white and overwrought, attempted to mediate between the two.
"I can't let you men start off like this," she said. "I—I'm fond of you both. I wish you would try to be friendly."
"I'm willing," said her cousin, with a sudden change of front that in no wise deceived Garrison, and he held forth his hand. "Will you shake?"
That Dorothy wished him to greet the fellow civilly, and not incur his ill-feeling. Garrison was sure. He took the proffered hand, as cold as a fish, and dropped it again immediately.