The speaker was sparring for time. His brain was not yet normal, but it was clearing rapidly. He saw this was no ordinary man he had to deal with, no ordinary circumstance; and his plan of campaign was unevolved.
"I fail to see why," he continued.
"Do you?" said Ben, quietly.
Sidwell lit a cigar nonchalantly and smoked for a moment in silence.
"Yes," he reiterated. "I fail to see why. To have made you an enemy implies that I have done you an injury, and I recall no way in which I could have offended you."
Ben indicated Hough with a nod of his head. "Do you wish a third party to hear what we have to say?" he inquired.
Sidwell looked at the questioner narrowly. Deep in his heart he was thankful that they two were not alone. He did not like the look in the countryman's blue eyes.
"Mr. Hough," he said with dignity, "is a friend of mine. If either of you must leave the room, most assuredly it will not be he." His eyes returned to those of the visitor, held there with an effort. "By the bye," he challenged, "what is it we have to say, anyway? So far as I can see, there's no point where we touch."
Ben returned the gaze steadily. "Absolutely none?" he asked.
"Absolutely none." Sidwell spoke with an air of finality.