"What are the facts?" he asked.
Roy told him unhesitatingly the whole truth. When he had concluded Jonas Hardcastle spoke.
"You've been hanging around here too long, Jim Cassell," he said, in a voice that quivered with indignation; "now make yourself scarce, both you and your son. Don't annoy my guests any more."
Cassell, nursing a spot on his jaw which was rapidly growing a beautiful plum color, lurched off without a word. His son followed. It was not until he reached the street that he spoke. Then, in a voice that trembled from suppressed fury, he hissed out:
"All right for you kids. You think you've played a smart trick on Dan and me; but I'll fix you! Just watch!"
Without uttering another syllable he slouched off into the gathering darkness, followed by his son, who bestowed a parting scowl on Roy and Jimsy.
"I'm sorry that you had a row with them," remarked Jonas Hardcastle, as the pair vanished.
"How's that?" inquired Roy. "They forced it on us, and—" "I know. I know all about that," was the rejoinder, "but Cassell is quite by way of being a politician hereabouts, and he might try to make it uncomfortable for you."
"In what way?" demanded Jimsy.
"Oh, many ways. Those fellows have no scruples. To tell you the truth, boys, I guess you haven't heard the last of this."