--it nearly knocked me off my feet, Mr. Varr; it's no wonder I
took a drink or so too much this evening. Now I've brought this man
here so you can say if he told me the truth--or so you can call him a
liar to his face."

"You needn't have gone to that trouble!" snarled Simon, purple with
rage. "He's a sneaking hound, but he told you the truth this time, and
I'd have told you all you wanted to know without your bringing him
along!"

"Then--it's true? You're going to let me out after all these years?"

"Yes!" The word was fairly shouted. From temper and sheer
exasperation, Simon was in a towering passion. He flung the notebook
he was holding onto his desk, raised both hands above his head and
shook them in a frenzy at the two men. "_Yes_! And you can start
going by getting out of here, now, and taking your eavesdropping pal
with you! Get out--and don't either of you ever come back!"

Langhorn wriggled free and stepped out into the hall. Graham did not
leave without a parting shot--directed via Copley, who had been a
silent witness of the scene.

"This is your fault more than any one else's," he said, "but I know you
didn't mean it." He glanced expressively at Varr and back again. "I
hope you're proud of your father!" he added dryly, and followed the
departing clerk from the house.

There was a brief silence in the study for a moment or two after the
thud of the closing front door came to their ears. Then Copley made to
leave the room, unchecked by his father, who stood watching him in
sullen mood. The young man paused on the threshold and turned to face
his father.

"So," he said evenly, "you were threatening me with a course of action
that you had already determined on! Isn't that so?"

A wave of color suffused Varr's face and answered him.

"Come back here!" snapped Simon. "I've not finished with you!"

"Yes, you have, father," said Copley. "Just that!"

White to his lips, he turned and left the room. Varr listened to his
retreating steps and to a second closing of the front door as he went
out of the house into the dark night.

Alone, Varr sank into the chair before his desk and tried to take stock
of his position. For once, it seemed, he had not only failed to have
his own way but had definitely come out at the short end of the horn.
It would be difficult to replace Graham--he could admit that to
himself. It would be impossible to replace Copley--! He did not try
to deceive himself