“Has, eh? Well, what might ‘this thing’ be?” he inquired.

“You know well enough!”

“Guess again. I don’t.”

“You do.”

A dull red showed in Orkney’s cheeks. “That’s the same thing as telling me I don’t tell the truth.”

“Does sound like it.”

“Mean to call me a liar?”

“Yes—if you say you don’t know.”

Orkney’s fists clenched; but Sam, warily watching, saw that the enemy kept himself in hand.

Again there was a pause. Sam broke it: