He glanced at Slocum and then at me. One look at his face was enough: the story was there.
"You low dog!" I broke out.
Slocum tried to hush me. Hostetter muttered something about not knowing what we were talking about.
"You're lying, Ed! Tell me the whole truth. Did you sell what you knew to the Nationalist, or to Frost and his crowd?"
He became stubborn all at once, and refused to answer. I turned to the lawyer:—
"See that man! I picked him out of the bankruptcy court two years ago, after giving him his third start in business. Last winter I sent his wife South and kept her there six months so that she could get well."
I turned to Ed.
"Whose bread are you eating now, to-day?"
He picked up his hat and started for the door. But I called him back. It came over me all at once what we had been through together, and I couldn't let him leave that way, sneak out of my sight for good and all.
"Tell me, Ed," I asked, more miserable than he, "are you going over to Carmichael to get some more pay for this?"