pped quickly back, for the little man, standing there,
glared at him in a panic of fear and disgust.

In the shock of his embarrassment Ewing fumbled at his overcoat and
slowly drew it off. Teevan's eyes now blazed rage upon him. His small,
withered, blue-veined hands were tightly clenched at his sides. His
attitude was almost a crouch. Ewing felt a furtive amusement above his
dismay, at sight of the dapper little figure in this incongruous battle
pose.

A moment they stood so, then the upper lip of Teevan lifted slowly to a
snarl. Seeing that he was about to speak, there ran with Ewing's
amazement an absurd apprehension of that break in the voice.

"What do you mean by it?" The swiftness, the intensity of the utterance
held the voice level thus far, but the break came with the next words,
and the speech ended in a wail.

"What do you think to gain by coming here--by hounding me--by hounding
_me_?"

Ewing constrained himself to quiet, with an impulse to soothe this
inexplicable fury.

"Please sit down, won't you? You were going to criticise my drawings,
you know. You suggested it a moment ago, and I thought--" He took up a
portfolio of sketches from one of the open trunks.

"Your trash! What's that to me? Do you think to pass this off? You've
learned effrontery in a fine school. Come to the point. What can you
make by this indecency--this----"

Ewing's look checked him--something genuine in his bewilderment.

"Come," began Teevan again, "is it possible you're no one, after all,
instead of being less than no one? You know me, don't you?"

"Of course I know you; Mrs. Laithe introduced us."

"Oh, don't juggle. You can't swagger it off with me. You shall not hound
me or mine."

"Hound?" Ewing sought for light, still trying to subdue this absurd
assailant.

"Hound, I said, you smug brat! You know me--you've not forgotten my name
so soon."

"Teevan, I believe. Really, Mr. Teevan--I----"

"Randall Gordon Teevan! The name meant something to you, didn't it?"

"No; it didn't mean anything to me."

"Ah! say that again!" He came toward the younger man to peer up into
his face with a grinning, incredulous scowl. "Say it again!"

Ewing drew back from his scrutiny with a slight impatience.

"Why say it again? Isn't once enough? You hear well, don't you? What
should your name mean to me?"

"You still try to carry _that_ off? Your game isn't ready to play?"

Ewing resumed his patient search.

"See here, Mr.