Claude Lamont arose and crossed the room.
“You don’t know what you do,” he cried.
“I know what I do. It is either lose this friend, as you call him, or lose your fortune.”
“He never tried to blackmail you.”
“He did!” thundered the nabob. “In this very room he wanted to sell the so-called secret for ten thousand dollars. I drove him away. I wouldn’t have anything to do with the scoundrel. But it seems you do. You are with him night and day, and you are old enough to know that you can’t play with pitch and not become defiled.”
Claude smiled derisively at this, and for a moment was silent.
“Look here,” he suddenly said, “I can’t give this man up. He knows too much.”
“What’s that?” cried Lamont, senior. “Do you admit that you are in his power?”
“I didn’t say so. I only remarked that I can’t throw him to one side. He knows too much.”
“Against whom?”