"Is it the boy's fault that he is a McKim?" returned the girl a little sharply. "Who chose his mother? Of all men you should be the last to speak disparagingly of a McKim. Turn the pages of history and you will find written large in the story of the upbuilding of nations the name of McKim. Carmody gold is the cabala of Carmody suzerainty. But the McKim name has been carved deep in the annals of nations by sheer force of the personalities behind blades of naked steel.
"Even now the crying world-need for men—big men—is as great as in the days when the fighting McKims deserted their hearthstones to answer the call of the falchion's clash or the cannon's roar. And some day you will realize this—when your bank messenger makes good!"
The old man regarded her with a look of admiration.
"You love him!" he said quietly.
The girl started. Her eyes flashed and the play of the firelight gave an added touch of crimson to her cheeks.
"I do not love him! I—I hate him!" Her voice faltered, and the man saw that she was very near to tears.
"A strange hate, this, Miss Ethel. A strange and a most dangerous hate for a girl to hold against a man who is a thief."
CHAPTER V
"THIEF!"