“You should face him—you must have it out with him!” exclaimed Claiborne, and Armitage saw the conflict and uncertainty in the officer’s eyes.
“But the time hasn’t come for that—”
“Then if there is something between you,”—began Claiborne, the doubt now clearly dominant.
“There is undoubtedly a great deal between us, and there will be more before we reach the end.”
Dick Claiborne was a perfectly frank, outspoken fellow, and this hint of mystery by a man whose character had just been boldly assailed angered him.
“Good God, man! I know as much about Chauvenet as I do about you. This thing is ugly, as you must see. I don’t like it, I tell you! You’ve got to do more than deny a circumstantial story like that by a fellow whose standing here is as good as yours! If you don’t offer some better explanation of this by to-morrow night I shall have to ask you to cut my acquaintance—and the acquaintance of my family!”
Armitage’s face was grave, but he smiled as he took his hat and stick.
“I shall not be able to satisfy you of my respectability by to-morrow night, Captain Claiborne. My own affairs must wait on larger matters.”
“Then you need never take the trouble!”
“In my own time you shall be quite fully satisfied,” said Armitage quietly, and turned away.