ere rising, partly
with apprehension, partly with irritation.

"Has that young gentleman ever delivered into your hands any papers
relating to the affairs of the late Malachi Withers, for your safe
keeping?"

"What do you mean by asking me these questions, Mr. Gridley? I don't
choose to be catechised about Murray Bradshaw's business. Go to him, if
you please, if you want to find out about it."

"Excuse my persistence, Miss Badlam, but I must prevail upon you to
answer my question. Has Mr. William Murray Bradshaw ever delivered
into your hands any papers relating to the affairs of the late Malachi
Withers, for your safe keeping?"

"Do you suppose I am going to answer such questions as you are putting
me because you repeat them over, Mr. Gridley? Indeed I cha'n't. Ask him,
if you please, whatever you wish to know about his doings."

She drew herself up and looked savagely at him. She had talked herself
into her courage. There was a color in her cheeks and a sparkle in her
eye; she looked dangerous as a cobra.

"Miss Cynthia Badlam," Master Gridley said, very deliberately, "I am
afraid we do not entirely understand each other. You must answer my
question precisely, categorically, point-blank, and on the instant.
Will you do this at once, or will you compel me to show you the absolute
necessity of your doing it, at the expense of pain to both of us? Six
words from me will make you answer all my questions."

"You can't say six words, nor sixty, Mr. Gridley, that will make me
answer one question I do not choose to. I defy you!"

"I will not say one, Miss Cynthia Badlam. There are some things one
does not like to speak in words. But I will show you a scrap of paper,
containing just six words and a date; not one word more nor one less.
You shall read them. Then I will burn the paper in the flame of your
lamp. As soon after that as you feel ready, I will ask the same question
again."

Master Gridley took out from his pocket-book a scrap of paper, and
handed it to Cynthia Badlam. Her hand shook as she received it, for she
was frightened as well as enraged, and she saw that Mr. Gridley was in
earnest and knew what he was doing.

She read the six words, he looking at her steadily all the time, and
watching her as if he had just given her a drop of prussic acid.

No cry. No sound from her lips. She stared as if half stunned for one
moment, then turned her head and glared at Mr. Gridley as if she would
have murdered him