ind out. This everlastin' cold don't make me over 'n'
above good-tempered, and when I think of what you've done to that little
girl, or what you tried to do, I have to hold myself down tight, TIGHT,
and don't you forget it! Now, you keep quiet and listen. It'll be best
for you, Heman. Your cards ain't under the table any longer. I've seen
your hand, and I know why you've been playin' it. I know the whole game.
I've been West, and Everdean and I have had a talk."

Mr. Atkins had again risen from the chair. Now he fell heavily back
into it. His lips moved as if he meant to speak, but he did not. At
the mention of the Everdean name he made a queer, choking sound in his
throat.

"I know the whole business, Heman," went on the captain. "I know why
you was so knocked over when you learned who Bos'n was, the night of
the party. I know why you took up with that blackguard, Thomas, and why
you've spent your good money hirin' lawyers for him. I know about the
mine. I know the whole thing from first to last. Shall I tell you? Do
you want to hear it?"

The great man did not answer. A drop of perspiration shone on his high
forehead, and the veins of his big, white hands stood out as he clutched
the arms of his chair. The monument was tottering on its base.

"It's a dirty mess, the whole of it," continued Captain Cy. "And yet, I
can see--I suppose I can see some excuse for you at the beginnin'. When
old man Everdean and his crowd bought you and John Thayer out, 'way
back there in '54, after John died, and all the money was put into your
hands, I cal'late you was honest then. I wouldn't wonder if you MEANT
to hand over the thirty-seven thousand five hundred dollars to your
partner's widow. But 'twas harder and more risky to send money East in
them days than 'tis now, and so you waited, thinkin' maybe that you'd
fetch it to Emily when you come yourself. But you didn't come home for
some years; you went tradin' down along the Feejees and around that way.
That's how I reasoned it out these last few days on the train. I give
you credit for bein' honest first along.

"But never mind whether you was or not, you haven't been since. You
never paid over a cent of that poor feller's money--honest money, that
belonged to his heirs, and belongs to 'em now. You've hung onto it,
stole it, used it for yours. And Emily worked and scratched for a livin'
and died poor. And Mary, she died, after bein' abused and deserted by
that cussed husband of h