_Silence_ may become a greater liar than the tongue. We often hear the expression "if you cannot speak good of any one, say nothing!" Yet silence is the most bitter, poisonous, insidious traducer. Silence may convey contempt more completely than a torrent of spoken words. Silence is most treacherous because it places the burden of its interpretation upon the other side. That interpretation may be wrong, but the silent slanderer does not correct it. Silence is also many sided. It may mean consent; it may mean denial. It does incalculable harm without being in the least responsible or actionable. One cannot horsewhip one for injury to character through silence. Silence and innuendo are closely related; both are the most dangerous weapons of the moral coward. Spoken lies are soon forgotten. They "rile" the blood--but that passes. Spoken lies are tangible, as it were, and may be met. Silence and innuendo are like enemies in invisible ambush. One cannot attack an invisible foe. What we have reference to might best be illustrated by the following dialogue the writer once overheard: A. "Tell me truly, did he make that charge against me?" B. turns away and refuses to answer. A. "I heard he had made that charge against me to you and threatened my life--is this true?" No answer. A. "I may then presume by your _silence_ that it is true what I have asked you about?" No reply. Result of _silence_: A homicide, and the destruction of two families. Asked later on why he did not nip the trouble in its incipiency by resorting to a white lie, B. answered with asperity that A. had put his _own construction_ upon his silence and refusal to have anything whatever to say in their controversy. On the stand B. admitted that the third party in question had not told him what A. had inquired about. Ergo: B. was morally responsible for the homicide, as much so as the man that pulled the trigger. Reverting to the circumstance which completed the breach between French and Eversole: A certain friend (?) of French conveyed information to Eversole that he, French, sought his life. This informant was a clerk in the store of French and known to be in his confidence. Naturally, under such circumstances, Eversole gave the report credence. Why not? We are ever ready to believe and accept as true anything that is spoken of an enemy, and French and Eversole had already become such in their hearts, if not outwardly. The tale-bearer, who shall be nameless, related how French had planned to rid himself of his business rival and thus make for himself a clear field for mercantile operations; that French expected to accomplish his purpose with the aid of trusty, hired assassins, and that one part of the plan, the employment of reliable murderers, had been entrusted to him, the informant, who had been promised any amount of money necessary for this purpose, and a partnership with French in the business as a further reward for his services.