"Is that the truth?" he cried.
"Not a word of truth in it," answered the broker coolly. "From what I've told you about Motor Matt, Newt, you ought to understand that he's cunning. He's working some sort of a dodge, now. Don't let him fool you."
Newt was quieted somewhat but not convinced.
"Who told you about those duebills?" he demanded.
"Your father."
"When did you see him? And how did he happen to tell you anything like that?"
"Just a minute," said Matt, playing with the spark before he advanced it fully. "There's a point about George Hobbes that I'd like to have settled. Which of you uses that name? Or have you a partnership interest in it? Newt plays cards at the Tin Cup Ranch as George Hobbes, and Murgatroyd does business in that name and receives letters in Bismarck when they are so addressed. Now——"
With a hoarse exclamation of astonishment and anger, Murgatroyd flung himself from the chair and started toward Matt. Newt jumped in front of him.
"You'd better sit down, Murg," said Newt.
The two men stared at each other, the broker furious, and the younger man defiant.