“You are mistaken,” I replied, still quietly. “I have that power.”
“You are a minor, sir,” said Mr. Downes, loftily. “I brand your ridiculous story as false. It would be quite within your character to have cut your coat sleeve as Paul says. I will not even believe that that is his knife——”
He stretched out his hand to take it from the table but I was too quick for him. “No, you don’t!” I said. “That is too valuable a bit of evidence for you to get hold of. Even Paul will not deny owning the knife. I know where he bought it and I can find the man who engraved his initials on the blade.”
“Very well planned indeed,” sneered Mr. Downes, but I sternly interrupted:
“Mr. Downes, again I tell you that you must leave this house. You and Paul shall never again live under the same roof with me.”
“When I hear your mother say this——”
“This is a matter which my mother will not have to decide,” I assured him, and without looking at her although I had returned to my place by her side.
“And why should we obey your behest, young man?”
“If you don’t leave I shall go out at once and swear out a warrant against Paul for assault with this knife. And I’ll have the warrant served, too.”
“Oh, Clinton!” sobbed my mother. “Don’t think of such a thing.”