Morehead rose and stretched his legs, and without glancing, even, at Wilkinson, he said bluntly:
"Durand, I watched them closely—each one of the twelve. And, mark my words, if it hadn't been for Leslie, I don't believe one man in the twelve would have believed a word that Peter said."
Wilkinson turned red.
"What the devil do you mean, Morehead?" he roared. "Is this an insult?"
Morehead never flinched.
"Sit down, Wilkinson," he commanded curtly. "I'm talking to Mr. Durand. What do you think, Patrick?"
Patrick Durand glanced over the rims of his glasses at the ceiling.
"Representative men, were they, Colonel?" he asked.
"A good mixture," said the Colonel. "I never saw a better...."
Durand drew a long breath.