He paused, and glanced at his father, who sat fidgeting uneasily. The colonel, fine-looking man that he was, was as weak-willed as his tall, thin, sharp-faced son was strong.
"A real nice scandal there'll be when we go smash," went on Randal Fearon. "Think of the headlines. 'Fraudulent Bankruptcy. Prominent Floridian lives beyond his means.' How the yellow press'll revel in it!"
Again the colonel moved uneasily. "I don't see how you're going to get the specifications from him, anyhow," he said at last.
"You leave that to me," replied Randal with sneering emphasis.
"Look you here, Randal, I won't have any violence." For once Colonel Fearon spoke decidedly.
"I guess you needn't worry your head about that," answered Randal. "I've got the whole plan cut and dried. You've asked him to stay?"
"Yes," said the colonel. "He will stay."
Randal laughed as if pleased. "That's all right. To-morrow we'll settle it, Pete Dally and I."
"How?"
"I'll tell you in the morning. Don't worry yourself. As you are so anxious to avoid it, I promise you there shall be no violence."