"So you went to Canada, did you?" sneered the squire. "It's a popular resort for gentlemen of your class."
"Your words do not trouble me, for I never committed the crime with which I was charged."
"Of course not. It is wonderful how innocent you all are. But you say that I am responsible for the consequences of your crime. What do you mean by that?"
"I mean," answered Barton, with a penetrating glance, "that the bonds were stolen by you, and that you schemed to throw the blame upon me. Is this plain?"
"Are you mad?" said the squire, angrily, "do you expect the world to believe this, or are you in a conspiracy to blackmail me?"
"The last question you can ask when I demand money from you as the price of my silence."
"Take care, John Barton! Your silly tale is the last desperate expedient of a criminal. You ought to see the folly of attacking a man in my position. For years I have been the most prominent man in Lakeville, owner of the large shoe factory that gives employment to fifty hands. It is no idle boast—and your wife will confirm my words—that I am the most influential and respected citizen of this town."
"And on what are your position and prosperity based, Albert Marlowe? Where did you obtain the capital that enabled you to start in business?"
Squire Marlowe looked confused for a moment, but his audacity did not desert him.
"I started," he answered, "on borrowed money."