"We won't discuss that," said Wayne Wayland, curtly. "What do you want me to do?"
"I want you to end this persecution. I want you to sail him off."
"In other words, you want me to save you."
Emerson swallowed. "I suppose it amounts to that. I want to be let alone, I want a square deal."
"Well, I won't." Wayne Wayland's voice hardened suddenly; his sound, white teeth snapped together. "You are getting exactly what you deserve. You betrayed me by spying upon me while you broke bread in my house. I see nothing reprehensible in Mr. Marsh's conduct; but even if I did, I would not censure him; any measures are justifiable against a traitor."
Boyd Emerson's face went gray beneath its coating of tan, and his voice threatened to break as he said:
"I am no traitor, and you know it. I thought you a man of honor, and I came to you, not for help but for justice. But I see I was mistaken. I am beginning to believe that Marsh acted under your instructions from the first."
"Believe what you choose."
"You think you've got me, but you haven't. I'll beat you yet."
"You can't beat me at anything." Mr. Wayland's jaws were set like iron.