I, a little sullenly, I
fear. "We got into a row on the boat coming in, and that is how he came
by his bruises. But I tied him up because I didn't fancy being slit up
like a codfish with this thing," and I drew the claspknife--a regular
sailor's "gully"--from my coat pocket and tossed it, open, upon the
table.

Mother screamed and shuddered, and sank back into her chair again.

"You needn't be scared," I said, more tenderly, crossing to her side and
putting my arm across her shoulders. "I'm not hurt at all. He only slit
my coat sleeve!"

Mr. Downes glanced from his son's swollen and disfigured face to my
flapping coatsleeve, and fear came into his own countenance. He knew
something about the ungovernable rages into which Paul frequently flew.
He was obliged to wet his lips with s tongue before he could speak:

"You will not believe this horrible, scandalous story, Mary!
Why--why--The boy is beside himself!"

"I think Paul was," I said, gravely. "We were both angry--I admit that.
But I used nothing but my fists on him."

"Paul! Why don't you speak up and deny this charge?"

"I--I never struck him with the knife," said my cousin, sullenly.
"He--he tied my arms and then he--he slit the coat himself. I--I never
touched him."

He lied so clumsily that even my innocent and horrified mother could
not believe him. But Mr. Dowries tried to make out that he believed
Paul.

"Listen to that, Mary!" he blustered. "Did you ever hear of such
depravity--such viciousness? A plot to ruin my boy in your eyes--a
cowardly plot!"

"It is no plot, Mr. Downes, and you know it," I said. "But I am going to
use the circumstance to a purpose which for some time I have longed to
accomplish. You and Paul will leave my mother's house--and leave it at
once!"

"Clinton!" gasped mother, seizing my hand.

"There, Madam!" cried Mr. Downes, furiously. "He has just as good as
admitted it is a conspiracy. Nefarious! He has invented this story----"

"Mr. Downes," I interrupted, my anger rising, "you have done everything
you could to prejudice mother against me. Is it any wonder that I desire
to see the last of you and your precious son?"

"Clinton! Clinton! My dear son," mother begged. "Don't be so
passionate."

"I never was more calm in my life," I responded, firmly. "But these two
shall not stay in our house another night, mother."

She burst into tears. Mr. Downes stepped nearer and his sneering look
would have enraged me at another