Joe rose, and there was a dangerous light in his eyes. His hands were open at his sides, but they twitched a little.
"Then," said Joe, "I'll make it worth your while. If you don't want to be helped out, get out!"
"Very well," sputtered Marrin, and turned, twirling his cane, and made an upright exit.
The sad Slate was paralyzed; Billy was joyous.
But Joe strode into the kitchen, where his mother was quietly reading at the window.
"What is it, Joe?"
"Mother," he said, "that fellow Marrin was in threatening to sue me for libel."
"Could it hurt you?"
"It might. Speaking the truth is always libelous."
Joe's mother spoke softly.