"Oh, you know why well enough. You are a common thief."
"Roland Kenyon, you will see the time when you will regret that insult, and that very soon," said Oliver, with honest indignation.
"Oh, shall I? I'm not afraid of you," retorted Roland.
"I permit no threats here," said Mr. Kenyon angrily.
"He is safe for the present," said Oliver.
"Thank you for nothing," said Roland. "Father, how long are you going to let him stay in the house?"
"That is not for your father to say, Roland," said Oliver coolly.
"What do you mean, you young reprobate?" demanded the step-father angrily. "If you have come here to make a disturbance, you have come to the wrong place, and selected the wrong man. Will you oblige me by leaving the house?"
Oliver sat near the window. He saw, though neither of the others did, that a carriage stood at the gate, and that Nicholas Bundy and a New York lawyer were descending from it. The time had now come for a change of tone.
"Mr. Kenyon," he said, "My answer is briefly that this house is not yours. I have a better right here than you."