His father had not recognized him.
“Come, you don’t want Sis to have the money,” he cried, and before the son could prevent, the other was on his feet, his eyes glaring like the orbs of a wolf.
“I’ll have your blood if you don’t tell me!” shrieked the mad millionaire.
“I’m your son.”
“No, you’re not! My son? It’s a lie!”
Claude saw his danger, and the madman advancing upon him made him throw out his hand in self-defense.
“My son is at home!” cried Lamont, senior. “You are not he. I won’t believe it!”
“But, father——”
The sentence was not finished, for all at once Perry Lamont sprang at his son, and grabbing him by the shoulders, threw him against the wall.
There was a startled cry on the other side of it from the woman whose eyes seemed glued to the paper there.