"It is the truth. Perhaps you'll deny next that you ever knew Sam Pepper."
"Why, has that fool come here?" roared Bulson, in a rage. "I told him——" He stopped short in confusion.
"Sam Pepper is dead—killed on the elevated railroad. Before he died he confessed several things, and, among others, what a villain you were."
"Ah! and what else?"
"He said I was the son of Mr. Horton here."
At this Homer Bulson grew as pale as death. He clutched at a table, then sank heavily on a near-by chair.
"It is—is false," he muttered, but his looks belied his words.
"It is true," broke in Mark Horton. "The boy is my son. This Sam Pepper was merely Pepperill Sampson in disguise. Homer, you are a villain!"
"Uncle Mark——"
"No, I won't listen to you. I listened before; now I am done. If you ever try to lift a finger against Gertrude or David, I will cut you off without a penny."