The old man showed how deeply the insult cut into him, and facing the young man with his own face as white as Fair’s, he retorted: “Your father’s son can go very far with me, but no man can give me the lie. Recall that word, Fair.”
Travers looked imploringly at Fair as he replied.
“I do recall it—and beg your pardon,” said Fair eagerly. “I also demand an explanation of your singular conduct.”
“If you will all sit down,” replied the solicitor, “I will prove that I am right. But before I do so I want to say that in all my life I never heard of such sublime devotion, such utterly disinterested heroism. Gentlemen, nothing will ever be more of an honor to us than to be called the friends of Maxwell Fair.”
“Hear, hear!” shouted Allyne, but Travers said quietly to Marshall: “I fear this is scarcely kind of you just now—look at his face.”
The old lawyer looked at Fair, and going over to him grasped his hand.
“Forgive me, boy,” he said, “but I meant each word. To end this dreadful business I have merely to state that the unhappy creature who sent the scoundrel to his doom came here not an hour ago and made a full confession.”
“And on my honor I swear that every word she said was false,” said Fair.
“You, at least, believe me?” asked Marshall, turning to Travers.
“Most assuredly,” replied Travers.