"Well, I'm not ready to make my will yet," said the other, still looking uneasy as he waited further explanations.
"I rather think you'll change your mind about that, and fix it right here, and now. To-day I want you to transfer every acre of your share to Annie."
"What?"
"To insure her the home you promised your mother she should always have."
"But look here—"
"To insure it for her and—her child."
The face at the window was no longer merely startled, it was white as death.
"Good God! You don't mean that!" he gasped. "It is not true. It can't be true!"
"You contemptible cur! You damnable liar!" muttered the other through his teeth. "You sit there like the whelp that you are, telling me of this woman you have married, with not a thought of that girl up in Kentucky that you had a right to marry. Shooting you wouldn't do her any good, or I wouldn't leave the work undone. Now I reckon you'll make the transfer."
The other had sat down helplessly, with his head in his hands.