. Said the guarantee you set such store by might
as well be used for curl papers, if the company got sick of its
bargain."

"Why don't you say something?" Mrs. Hornblower turned on Justin
furiously. "What do you mean by letting her run on in this crazy
fashion and never wagging your tongue?" Underneath her anger sounded a
note of despair. No one who knew Persis Dale ever doubted her absolute
truth. And unless she had lied the thing was beyond explanation.

Before Justin could reply, Robert Hornblower was on his feet. Another
startling transformation had come over the old man. Years and
decrepitude fell from him like a discarded garment. As he advanced
upon Justin, his fists clenched, he actually looked a formidable figure.

"You get out of my house, you sneaking lying swindler. You clear out
and never open your head to me one word about your damned old company
or I'll--"

"Robert!" shrieked Mrs. Hornblower in hysterical protest.

Ware rose with as much dignity as the situation permitted. Few men can
feel themselves the target of the scorn of three honest people and not
wince, and Justin, whatever his weaknesses, did not lack sensibility.

"If you wish to accept Miss Dale's version of the matter, it is
immaterial to me. I have given you more time than I could well afford
to spare so small an investment, because I remembered you as my boyhood
friends. I shall be glad to drop the matter." And then, quite against
his will, he looked at Persis.

She sat straight and pale, her eyes steely, her lips grim. And once he
had kissed those lips, and those contemptuous eyes had poured into his,
faith and love unstinted. As he stumbled toward the door, the thought
crossed his mind that the boy who had won the love and respect of
Persis Dale was not the poor dolt he had thought him. The years had
brought loss as well as gain.

"Good morning." He made an effort to speak with his customary easy
self-possession, and Mr. Hornblower's answer was to slam the door upon
him. "Good riddance to damned bad rubbish," he roared.

"Robert!" screamed Mrs. Hornblower. "Profanity at your age. Twice in
five minutes."

"Hold your tongue!"

The mental collapse of Mrs. Hornblower was physically evident. Flabby
and shaken, she sat looking with unfeigned terror at her metamorphosed
lord and master. And Mr. Hornblower, puffing out his chest, looked
very much like the oldest son of the individual he had appeared an hour
pre