"Look heah, Keith," he began, dropping into a chair, and leaning both arms on the table opposite Keith, "I don't want to say anything offensive, or make any disagreeable implications, or insult you by false suspicions, but there are various persistent rumours about, and I thought I'd better come to you direct."
"Fire away, Cal," said Keith.
"Well, it's just this: they do say yo're tryin' to fasten a criminal charge of bribery on me. You and I have been friends—and still are, I hope—but if yo're goin' gunnin' foh me, I want to know it."
His face was slightly flushed, but his fine dark eyes looked hopefully to his friend for denial. Keith was genuinely distressed. He moved an inkwell to and fro, and did not look up; but his voice was steady and determined as he replied:
"I'm not gunning for you, Cal, and I wish to heaven you weren't mixed up in this mess." He looked up. "But I am gunning for crooked work in this Cora case!"
Bennett took his arms from the table, and sat erect.
"Do you mean to imply, suh, that I am guilty of crooked work?" he inquired, a new edge of formality in his voice.
"No, no, of course not!" hastened Keith. "I hadn't thought of you in that connection! I am just looking the whole matter up——"
"Well, suh, I strongly advise you to drop it," interrupted Bennett curtly.
"But why?"