Leyburn suddenly cleared his throat. He sat forward in his chair and even in the failing light it was plain—the furious flashing of his eyes. Angus lost no detail of any purpose, other than to talk, in his prisoner. He sat absolutely alert.
"Yes," Leyburn suddenly cried out. "I'll tell the story to this—this cur of a boy of yours, damn you." Then he flung out an arm, pointing at the man astride his chair, smoking in his steady, unruffled fashion. "See that man," he cried, with added fury, addressing himself to Frank. "See that low-down thief? See him, a cur who can even rob the dead? That's your father!"
It was a terrible moment. It was a moment so painful that no added word could have intensified its drama.
Nor was any word forthcoming. Hendrie smoked on. His face was calm, his balance of restraint was quite undisturbed before the hideous accusation.
One swift glance of Frank's blue eyes shot in his father's direction, but, otherwise, he, too, continued to smoke his pipe without a sign. He knew it was not for him to speak—yet. Angus silently gritted his teeth. His astonishment could not be doubted. Leyburn alone seemed to be affected. He had lashed himself to a super-heat by his own words.
"Say," he cried, still addressing himself to Frank. "You young skunk, I can thank you for all this—this that's happened here. I find you, a jail-bird, coming straight from the penitentiary, and I take you, make a man of you, and this—this is the way you repay me. But I might have known it would be. If ever there was a son of a rotten father, you are he. The three of you've got me here. You reckon I'm in your power. Guess none of you'd stop at murder, if it suited you. I tell you unless you do it, and do it quick, there's a long road ahead of us all, and we'll travel it together, and I'll fight you every inch of the way."
Hendrie removed his cigar from between his lips.
"The boy's waiting for your yarn. The other'll keep for—later."
"Yes, you're right, Leo. Oh, you're right," Leyburn retorted passionately. "It'll keep till later. Meanwhile I'll get on with the story." He turned again to Frank. "You're this man's bastard. You understand—his bastard. Twenty years ago we were on the Yukon together——"
"Not together. We were both there," corrected Hendrie.