"He knows too much!" flared Murgatroyd.
"He says so much I know to be true that I'm inclined to believe everything he tells us. We'll hear him out, and if you try to lay your hands on him you'll settle with me."
The spark was working splendidly. It would not be long, now, before it set off an explosion.
"You wrote a letter to Murgatroyd, Newt," said Matt, "and posted it in Steele, North Dakota. Murgatroyd hasn't found it healthy to be in his Jamestown office for some time, and the only person there, when your letter was received, was your father. He recognized your handwriting, and he opened the letter and made a copy of it before he sent it on to Murgatroyd, in Bismarck."
The broker's face became fairly livid. He tried to talk, but the words gurgled in his throat.
"Your father knew I was a friend of his," pursued Matt, "and he came to Fort Totten to see me. He got there yesterday afternoon, driving over from Minnewaukon in a heavy rain. When he showed me the copy of your letter, I started for this place in the aëroplane."
"What were you intending to do here?" inquired Newt.
"I was hoping to persuade you to go back to Totten and see your father. He wants you."
Newt shook his head.
"It won't do," he answered. "The old man and I had a tumble, and it's better for us to keep apart."