“Yes, sir—right on the nose.”
“I meant another bump to your heritage, my son.”
“I'm worrying more about my nose, partner. In fact, I'm not worrying about my heritage at all. I've come to a decision on that point: We're going to fight and fight to the last; we're going down fighting. And by the way, I started the fight this afternoon. I whaled the wadding out of that bucko woods-boss of Pennington's, and as a special compliment to you, John Cardigan, I did an almighty fine job of cleaning. Even went so far as to muss the Colonel up a little.”
“Wow, wow, Bryce! Bully for you! I wanted that man Rondeau taken apart. He has terrorized our woods-men for a long time. He's king of the mad-train, you know.”
Bryce was relieved. His father did not know, then, of the act of vandalism in the Valley of the Giants. This fact strengthened Bryce's resolve not to tell him—also to get the fallen monarch sawed up and the stump blasted out before an operation should restore his father's sight and reveal to him the crowning cruelty of his enemy.
Arm in arm they walked up the garden path together.
Just as they entered the house, the telephone in the hall tinkled, and Bryce answered.
“Mr. Cardigan,” came Shirley Sumner's voice over the wire.
“Bryce,” he corrected her.
She ignored the correction,