There was a pause; a breathless pause. The two men confronted each other, both held calm by a strength which a moment ago would have seemed impossible in at least one of them.
Grey’s face worked painfully with suppressed excitement, but he gripped himself. George Iredale was calm under the effort of swift thought. He was the first to break the silence, and he did so in a voice well modulated and under perfect control. But the mouthpiece of his pipe was nearly bitten through.
“Now I shall be glad if you will go on. You apparently have further charges to make against me. I hardly know whether I am in the presence of a madman or a fool. One or the other, I am sure. You may as well make your charges at once. You 95 will certainly answer for all you have already said, so make the list of your accusations complete before–––”
“You fool!” hissed Grey, goaded to the last extremity of patience. His headlong nature could not long endure restraint. Now his words came with a blind rush.
“Do you think I’d speak without being sure of my ground? Do you think, because other men who have occupied the position which is mine at Ainsley have been blind, that I am? Lonely Ranch; a fitting title for your place,” with a sneer. “Lonely! in neighbourhood, yes, but not as regards its owner. You are wealthy, probably the wealthiest man in the province of Manitoba; why, that alone should have been sufficient to set the hounds of the law on your trail. I know the secret of Lonely Ranch. I have watched day after day the notice you have inserted in the Free Press––‘Yellow booming––slump in Grey.’ Nor have I rested until I discovered your secret. I shall make no charge here beyond what I have said, but–––”
He suddenly broke off, awakening from his blind rage to the fact of what he was doing. His mouth shut like a trap, and beads of perspiration broke out upon his forehead. His eyes lowered before the ironical gaze of his companion. Thus he sat for a moment a prey to futile regrets. His anger had undone him. The sound of a short laugh fell upon his ears, and, as though drawn by a magnet, his eyes were once more turned on the face of the rancher.
“I was not sure which it was,” said Iredale dryly; “whether you were a fool or a madman. Now I know. I had hoped that it was madness. There 96 is hope for a madman, but none for a fool. Thank you, Grey, for the information you have supplied me with. Your folly has defeated your ends. Remember this. You will never be able to use the ‘Secret’––as you are pleased to call it––of Lonely Ranch. I will take good care of that. And now, as I hear sounds of people running up-stairs, we will postpone further discussion. This interview has been prolonged sufficiently––more than sufficiently for you.”
Iredale rose from his chair; to all appearance he was quite undisturbed. Grey’s condition was exactly the reverse.
He, too, rose from his seat. There was a sound of some one approaching the door. Grey stepped up to his companion and put his mouth close to his ear.
“Don’t forget that you cannot conceal the traces that are round your––ranch. Traces which are unmistakable to those who have an inkling of the truth.”