“As long as Mr. Locke has denied that he is Paul Hazelton, I shall believe him. He has the eyes of an honest man. He has the face of a man who cannot lie.” “I confess that he is an excellent actor, able to assume a most deceiving air of innocence and veracity.” “Benton King, I refuse to talk with you about him. Where’s your proof that he is not what he claims to be? You have only your unjust suspicions to back you up. I should hate to think you were concerned in the spreading of this preposterous story printed in the Bancroft _News_. Why, if I thought that――” “I am not concerned in it, to my knowledge; I give you my word of honor on that. When I first suspected that he was Hazelton, of Princeton, I made some inquiries concerning him; but I have carried nothing to Riley. Since he denied in your presence that he was Hazelton, I have not spoken of him to any one save you.” He was very desirous that, though she knew him to be determined to expose Locke as an impostor, she should not get the impression that he, King, would resort to the smallest underhanded device to overthrow a rival. He had told the man plainly that he had sent for a picture of Paul Hazelton. It was to be a fair and open fight to the finish. “Very well,” said Janet, “I believe you. But do not come to me with any more hearsay gossip about Tom Locke. When you have proof I will listen.” CHAPTER XXIX THE FRAME-UP At nine o’clock on Saturday evening, two men sat talking in confidential tones in the Bancroft office of Lawyer Rufus Kilgore. The lawyer himself was not present; he had not even seen Bob Hutchinson follow Mike Riley into that office. But he had loaned Riley the key, with the full knowledge that some sort of a secret conclave was to be held there. Riley was paid to manage a winning team, and he was at liberty to negotiate what conspiracies he chose for Bancroft’s advantage; but, for the ease of his conscience, Kilgore wished to know as little as possible about such plots. On this occasion, Hutchinson had made the appointment with Riley, specifically stating that no third party was to be present during the interview. In his heart bitter rancor toward Tom Locke gnawed like canker; his hatred for the man who had indiscreetly told him the fearless truth concerning his own treacherous character was like a wound that would not heal. Alone with Riley in that office, with the door locked, he unhesitatingly announced his determination to “put the knife into Lefty.” Mike listened, grinning his satisfaction. “What’s happened?” he asked, leaning back in the creaking swivel chair and elevating his big, flat feet on the open, littered desk. “You and him been havin’ some sort of a diff’runce?”