I don't want to say any more! But sudden
illness must prevent you from accompanying Miss Presson into public at
that ball."
Harlan beat a palm upon his own breast.
"I've had enough of this, Linton. You tell me what you're driving at."
It was plain that Linton hated to be more explicit. This culprit did not
seem to quail before vague accusation, as he had expected him to do. He
was faced by a young man whose face was lighted by wrath, curiosity, and
kindred emotions that were obviously not those of guilt.
"Let me say this in my own defence," pleaded Linton. "Spinney was going
right to Mr. and Mrs. Presson with the story. I got it from him almost
by accident. We were talking over our railroad bill this evening, and he
mentioned your stand. Then he out with the story that he picked up when
he was in Fort Canibas. I do not listen to gossip, Mr. Thornton, but it
is plain that Spinney has facts. I have inquired in a prudent way of
other men from your section. He has the story, but what they say
confirms it."
Harlan listened, his blank amazement depriving him of speech.
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