"I need a little backing," he said, "but I can get along without it. And what I'm going to do is to marry Miss Orchil. Now you know; now you understand. I don't care a damn about the Erroll boy; and I think I'll discount right now any intentions of any married man to bother Miss Orchil after some Dakota decree frees him from the woman whom he's driven into an asylum."
Ruthven looked at him curiously:
"So that is discounted, is it?"
"I think so," nodded Neergard. "I don't think that man will try to obtain a divorce until I say the word."
"Oh! Why not?"
"Because of my knowledge concerning that man's crooked methods in obtaining for me certain options that meant ruin to his own country club," said Neergard coolly.
"I see. How extraordinary! But the club has bought in all that land, hasn't it?"
"Yes—but the stench of your treachery remains, my friend."
"Not treachery, only temptation," observed Ruthven blandly. "I've talked it all over with Orchil and Mottly—"
"You—what!" gasped Neergard.