“I want to say—” he began again.
“All right, Stevie,” interrupted the captain, dryly, “then I’d say it if I was you. I guess it’s time you did.”
“I want to—to tell that fellow there,” with a vicious stab of his forefinger in the direction of Pearson, “that I consider him an—an ingrate—and a scoundrel—and a miserable—”
“Steady!” Captain Elisha’s interruption was sharp this time. “Steady now! Leave out the pet names. What is it you’ve got to tell?”
“I—my sister and I have found out what a scoundrel he is, that’s what! We’ve learned of the lies he wrote about father. We know that he was responsible for all that cowardly, lying stuff in the Planet—all that about the Trolley Combine. And we don’t intend that he shall sneak into this house again. If he was the least part of a man, he would never have come.”
“Mr. Warren—” began Pearson, stepping forward. The captain interrupted.
“Hold on, Jim!” he said. “Just a minute now. You’ve learned somethin’, you say, Stevie. The Dunns told you, I s’pose.”
“Never mind who told me!”
“I don’t—much. But I guess we’d better have a clear understandin’, all of us. Caroline, will you come in here, please?”
He stepped toward the door. Stephen sprang in front of him.