"Well, if I never see you again, good-bye, old pal." She extended her hand in mock gravity.
"I'm not afraid of him."
"No, of course not!"
"You're a coward, or you'd stand by me. Wait, Elena, he's coming now."
"Why stand by? You're not afraid? I'll return in time for the inquest. Brace up! Remember Barbara. Be a hero!"
With a ripple of laughter she disappeared as the Colonel's footsteps were heard at the door.
Norman braced himself for the ordeal. He had never before dared to test his father's iron will. He had grown accustomed to see strong men bow and cringe before him, and felt a secret contempt for them all. They were bowing to his millions. And yet the boy knew with intuitive certainty that beneath the mask of quiet dignity and polished military bearing of the man he facetiously called "the Governor" there slumbered a will unique, powerful, and overbearing. More than once he had resented the silent pressure of his positive and aggressive personality. His own budding manhood had begun instinctively to bristle at its approach.
The Colonel started on seeing Norman, and looked at him with a quizzical expression.
"Was there an earthquake this morning, Norman?"
"I didn't feel it, sir—why?"