CHAPTER XXX
THE ARGUMENT
“Mr. Ballard, either my son was murdered, or he was a murderer. The crime falls upon us, and the disgrace of it, no matter how you look at it.” The Elder sat in the back room at the bank, where his friend had been arguing with him to withdraw the offer of a reward for the arrest. “It’s too late, now––too late. The man’s found and he claims to be my son. You’re a kindly man, Mr. Ballard, but a blind one.”
Bertrand drew his chair closer to the Elder’s, as if by so doing he might establish a friendlier thought in the man’s heart. “Blind? Blind, Elder Craigmile?”
“I say blind. I see. I see it all.” The Elder rose and paced the floor. “The boys fought, there on the bluff, and sought to kill each other, and for the same cause that has wrought most of the evil in the world. Over the love of a woman they fought. Peter carried a blackthorn stick that ought never to have been in my house––you know, for you brought it to me––and struck his cousin with it, and at the same instant was pushed over the brink, as Richard intended.”
“How do you know that Richard was not pushed over? How do you know that he did not fall over with his cousin? How can you dare work for a man’s conviction on such slight evidence?”
“How do I know? Although you would favor that––that––although––” The Elder paused and struggled for control, then sat weakly down and took up the argument again with trembling voice. “Mr. Ballard, I would spare you––much of this matter which has been brought to my knowledge––but I cannot––because it must come out at the trial. It was over your little daughter, Betty, that they fought. She has known all these years that Richard Kildene murdered her lover.”