“I love her, too.”
Jim’s darkly brilliant eyes were on the younger man’s face. They compelled his gaze, and the two men looked long at each other, vainly trying to penetrate to that which lay behind. It was Will who turned away at last.
“I knew it,” he said, and there was no longer any pretense of cordiality in his tone.
“Well?”
“Well?”
It was a tense moment for both men; and tremendous in its possibilities. There was no shrinking in either now; no yielding. But, as it ever was, Jim took the lead after a few moments’ silence.
“And––does she love you?” he asked slowly.
His words were little above a whisper, but so tense was his feeling that his voice seemed to cut through the still air of the room. Will hesitated before replying. Perhaps he was reckoning up Jim’s chances as compared with his 22 own. Finally, he was reluctantly compelled to make an admission.
“I don’t know––yet.”
The other sighed audibly. Then he mechanically began to refill his pipe. He wanted to speak, but there seemed to be nothing adequate to say. Two men, virile, thrilling with the ripe, red blood of perfect manhood, friends, and––a woman stood between them.