Munn picked a buttercup and bit off the stem. With the blossom between his teeth he surveyed the sky, the river, the forest, and then the features of Sprowl. "How much?" asked Sprowl, impatiently. Munn named a sum that staggered Sprowl, but Munn could perceive no tremor in the fat, blank face before him. "And if we refuse?" suggested Sprowl. Munn only looked at him. Sprowl repeated the question. "Well," observed Munn, stroking his beard reflectively, "there's that matter of the title." This time Sprowl went white to his fat ears. Munn merely glanced at him, then looked at the river. "I will buy the title this time," said Sprowl, hoarsely. "You can't," said Munn. A terrible shock struck through Sprowl; he saw through a mist; he laid his hand on a tree-trunk for support, mechanically facing Munn all the while. "Can't!" he repeated, with dry lips. "No, you can't buy it." "Why?" "O'Hara's daughter has it." "But--she will sell! Won't she sell? Where is she?" burst out Sprowl. "She won't sell," said Munn, studying the ghastly face of the president. "You can make her sell," said Sprowl. "What is your price?" "I can't make her sell the title to your club property," said Munn. "She'll sell this land here. Take it or leave it." "If I take it--will _you_ leave?" asked Sprowl, hoarsely. Munn smiled, then nodded. "And will that shut your mouth, you dirty scoundrel?" said Sprowl, gripping his riding-crop till his fat fingernails turned white. "It will shut _my_ mouth," said Munn, still with his fixed smile. "How much extra to keep this matter of the title quiet--as long as I live?" "As long as you live?" repeated Munn, surprised. "Yes, I don't care a damn what they say of me after I'm dead," snarled Sprowl. Munn watched him for a moment, plucked another buttercup, pondered, smoothed out his rich, brown, silky beard, and finally mentioned a second sum. Sprowl drew a check-book from the breast-pocket of his coat, and filled in two checks with a fountain pen. These he held up before Munn's snapping, yellowish eyes. "This blackmail," said Sprowl, thickly, "is paid now for the last time. If you come after me again you come to your death, for I'll smash your skull in with one blow, and take my chances to prove insanity. And I've enough money to prove it." Munn waited. "I'll buy you this last time," continued Sprowl, recovering his self-command. "Now, you tell me where O'Hara's child is, and how you are going to prevent her from ever pressing that suit which he dropped." "O'Hara's daughter is here. I control her," said Munn, quietly. "You mean she's one of your infernal flock?" demanded Sprowl. "One of the Shining Band," said Munn, with a trace of a whine in his voice. "Where are the papers in that proceeding, then? You said O'Hara burned them, you liar!" "She has them in a box in her bedroom," replied Munn. "Does she know what they mean?" asked Sprowl, aghast. "No--but I do," replied Munn, with his ominous smile.