"Go on!" he growled. "You are to get your wife to give you this Point, Rivers. She may not want to, but you must force her a bit there by confessing to her the whole damned truth from start to finish about--these!" Both men looked at the mass of papers. "What all these things represent, you know." Larry did not move; he believed that Northrup knew, too. Knew of that year back in the past when his trick had been his ruin. "And your simply getting out of sight won't do. Your wife has got to be free--free, do you understand? So long as she doesn't know the truth she'd have pity for you--women are like that--she's going to know all there is to know, and then she'll fling you off!" In the hidden depths of Rivers's nature there heaved and roared something that, had Northrup not held the reins, would have meant battle to the death. It was not outraged honour, love, or justice that blinded and deafened Larry; it was simply the brutish resentment of the savage who, bound and gagged, watches a strong foe take all that he had believed was his by right of conquest. At that moment he hated Mary-Clare as he hated Northrup. "You damned scoundrel!" he gasped. "And if I do what you suggest, what then?" He meant to force Northrup as far as he dared. A look that Rivers was never to forget spread over Northrup's face; it was the look of one who had lived through experiences he knew he could not make clear. The impossibility of making Rivers comprehend him presently overcame Northrup. He spread his hands wide and said hopelessly: "Nothing!" "Like hell, nothing!" Larry was desperate and brutal. Under all his bravado rang the note of defeat; terror, and a barren hope of escape that he loathed while he clung to it. "I don't know what Maclin's game is--I've played fair. Whatever you've got on him can't touch me, when the truth's out." Rivers was breathing hard; the sweat stood on his forehead. "But when it comes to selling your wife for hush money----" "Stop that!" Northrup's face was livid. He wanted to throttle Rivers but he could not shake off the feeling of pity for the man he had so tragically in his grip. There was a heavy pause. It seemed weighted with tangible things. Hate; pity; distrust; helpless truth. They became alive and fluttering. Then truth alone was supreme.