y
spite of that young cub, Gerald? Or"--and he almost looked at
Ruthven--"is this some childish whim of yours?"

"Oh, really now--"

"Yes, really now," sneered Neergard, "you'd better tell me. And you'd
better understand, now, once for all, just exactly what I've outlined
for myself--so you can steer clear of the territory I operate in." He
clasped his blunt fingers and leaned forward, projecting his whole body,
thick legs curled under; but his close-set eyes still looked past
Ruthven.

"I need a little backing," he said, "but I can get along without it. And
what I'm going to do is to marry Miss Orchil. Now you know; now you
understand. I don't care a damn about the Erroll boy; and I think I'll
discount right now any intentions of any married man to bother Miss
Orchil after some Dakota decree frees him from the woman whom he's
driven into an asylum."

Ruthven looked at him curiously:

"So that is discounted, is it?"

"I think so," nodded Neergard. "I don't think that man will try to
obtain a divorce until I say the word."

"Oh! Why not?"

"Because of my knowledge concerning that man's crooked methods in
obtaining for me certain options that meant ruin to his own country
club," said Neergard coolly.

"I see. How extraordinary! But the club has bought in all that land,
hasn't it?"

"Yes--but the stench of your treachery remains, my friend."

"Not treachery, only temptation," observed Ruthven blandly. "I've talked
it all over with Orchil and Mottly--"

"You--_what_!" gasped Neergard.

"Talked about it," repeated Ruthven, hard face guileless, and raising
his eyebrows--a dreadful caricature of youth in the misleading
smoothness of the minutely shaven face; "I told Orchil what you
persuaded me to do--"

"You--you damned--"

"Not at all, not at all!" protested Ruthven, languidly settling himself
once more among the cushions. "And by the way," he added, "there's a
law--by-law--something or other, that I understand may interest you"--he
looked up at Neergard, who had sunk back in his chair--"about unpaid
assessments--"

Neergard now for the first time was looking directly at him.

"Unpaid assessments," repeated Ruthven. "It's a, detail--a law--never
enforced unless we--ah--find it convenient to rid ourselves of a member.
It's rather useful, you see, in such a case--a technical pretext, you
know. . . . I forget the exact phrasing; something about' ceases to
retain his membership, and such shares of stock