Vance stepped hurriedly from behind the case, and drawing Louise gently back, stood face to face with Arthur Boast. He was calm and determined. “Where,” said he, “where have I accused you of murdering Rufus Grim? Point out the sentence in the article where your name even appears?” “Well, you haven’t used my name, but you might as well have done so.” “No,” said Vance, as his eyes gleamed with fiercest indignation and anger, “I have not accused you, Arthur Boast, but you, by this act, with your mob of hirelings behind you, have accused yourself. Now you must, and by the eternals, shall answer to the law. A guilty conscience,” he continued, “needs no accuser, and it is your accusing conscience that has prompted you to come here and publicly charge yourself with the crime. Neither you, nor your host of admirers on full pay, can intimidate me. If you can pass through the test of a thorough investigation, and can be proved innocent, then I will have [236] no more to say, but until you do this, I shall publicly accuse you and denounce you as the murderer of Rufus Grim!” Vance towered up like a giant before the writhing and shriveling form of J. Arthur Boast. 0244 “Well, I don’t know that you have accused me in this editorial,” whined Boast, “and I don’t know as I need to take any steps of revenge until you dare to use my name in your paper. I guess I’ll wait and see what my [237] lawyer advises. Fall back, boys, I have nothing farther to say at this interview.” “But I have,” said Vance, in thundering tones, “and before long I shall have much to say.” “Well, you won’t say it through the columns of the Gold Bluff Prospector. It is my property; I have the bill of sale in my pocket.” “Yes,” said Vance, “yours is the weapon of a coward; the unholy use of the power of money, but your plan of securing possession of the Prospector has no terrors for me. The copy of the Prospector that you hold in your hand contains the last editorial I ever expect to write for the paper. It may please you to know that my last dollar is gone; I am penniless, and without interference from you the Prospector has been issued for the last time under my management. I have been typo, managing editor, devil, form setter, city editor, publisher and everything else, trying hard to make an honest living. I am now through. You and your host of satellites will oblige me by leaving the premises. Come to-morrow morning and take possession. You’ll not find me in the way.” Boast turned, and facing his mob of backers said, with the forced laugh of a whipped man: “I thought I would squelch him, boys; he had to cave in, you bet.” His voice was shrill and squeaky, and his braggadocio air, as he led his admirers away, hid but poorly his nervousness and agitation.