None of us answered, and finally Will said:—
"I guess, Van, you and I don't see things quite the same way. I know you wouldn't ask me to do what you thought was bad, but all the same there's too much that's true in that piece in the paper, and I don't want to have it said—there's things going on down there that aren't right—and May feels—I feel myself, that it ain't right. We don't think the same way, you and I. So we had better part now, before we have any bad feeling."
"All right! Did you come over here to-night to tell me that?"
"No, Van," May put in hastily, her voice trembling with feeling. "That wasn't all. Will and I came to ask you to give up the sort of business you are doing down there. We want you to turn back into the right road before it is too late. If you don't land in the penitentiary, Van Harrington, your money will do you no good. It will taste bad all your life!"
We were all pretty well stirred up by this time. I was weary of meeting these charges of dishonesty on all sides. This last was too much—to have my family accuse me of a crime, when I did not feel guilty, not for a minute!
"I don't see why you should say that, May!" Sarah suddenly bridled. "After all, it's only the newspapers, and no one believes them to-day."
This unexpected defence from Sarah aroused May afresh.
"Oh, he don't deny it! He can't. First it was a judge—he bought a judge and paid for him, and he never came out and denied it! Now it's worse even than that. It's the people of a whole state he's trying to buy through their representatives."
"Who are there for sale," I laughed.
"Does that make it any better?" she turned on me. "Seems to me, Van, you don't know any longer the difference between black and white!"