“Fyles?”
Charlie’s eyes suddenly darkened with resentment. He rose abruptly from his chair, and began to pace the veranda. Then he halted, and looked coldly down into his brother’s eyes.
“What did he say?” he demanded shortly.
Bill’s eyes answered him with question for question.
“Just told me who Helen was. Said she had a sister—Kate. Said they were farmers—of a sort. Said they’d been here five years. Why?”
Charlie ignored the question.
“That’s all?” he demanded.
“Sure.” Bill nodded.
Then the hardness died out of Charlie’s eyes to be replaced once more by his usual gentle smile.
“I’m glad. You see, I don’t want him—around Kate. Say——” he hesitated. Then he moved toward the door of the house. “Guess I’ll get supper. I forgot, you must be starving.”