“You are laboring under a delusion, boy!” said Wentworth harshly.
“You know better than that, Mr. Wentworth,” answered Gerald calmly.
“You are certainly very modest in your demands. Twenty thousand dollars, indeed!”
“It was not I who fixed upon that sum, but yourself. As my father’s sacrifice brought you over three hundred thousand dollars, it was a good bargain for you.”
“What have you to show in proof of this extraordinary claim of yours?” demanded Wentworth, waiting eagerly for the answer.
“Your confession over your own signature that you forged the check, a crime attributed to my father, and confessing that he bore the blame to screen you.”
“Where is this paper?” demanded Wentworth, edging, as if unconsciously, nearer the boy.
“It is safe,” answered Gerald, rising and facing his companion.
“Show it to me! I won’t believe in its existence unless you show it to me.”