“I wouldn’t, seriously,” he returned. “It might be dangerous. Women like you are dangerous, you know. I fancy our friends here,” glancing toward the commodore and Clarence, “have found that out. But it will be a lesson. ‘We’ll never wander more from our own fireside,’” he hummed. “Well,” said Gee-gee, shaking her auburn tresses, “those were pretty bold statements of what you could do to me, in that note you sent.” “They were true, my dear.” The green eyes flared. Gee-gee was shaking all over. Gid-up looked rather frightened. “Take it easy,” said the monocle-man. “I’d like to see you prove what you can do,” she returned. “You say I have framed-up a lot of false-hoods—a tissue of lies—in that affidavit the lawyer at Mrs. Ralston’s drew up. I tell you they’re all true.” Dan looked weak. “Everything I’ve told happened just at I said it did, and he knows it.” Pointing a finger at the commodore. “I wonder if I ought not to put you in jail now?” said the monocle-man meditatively. “There’s a cell vacant next to the hammer-thrower. You would be congenial spirits.” “It’s proofs I’m asking, Mr. Detective,” retorted Gee-gee, apparently not greatly abashed by this threat. She was accustomed to hitting back. “Yes, it’s proofs,” said Gid-up, but in weaker accents. The monocle-man shook a reproving finger at Gid-up. “You’re in bad company, my dear,” he observed. “You’re out of Gee-gee’s class. You’re just trying to be in it.” “I don’t want any of your impertinence,” answered Gid-up with a faint imitation of Gee-gee’s manner. “He’s a proper bad one.” Pointing to Clarence who presented a picture of abject misery. “And when I tell all the things he done to me—” “But you won’t tell them.” “I have.” Defiantly. “In that paper the lawyer drew up.” “But you’re going to sign a little paper I have here, repudiating all that,” he answered her. “Oh, am I?” Elevating her turned-up nose. “You are.” Blandly. “Guess again,” said Gid-up saucily. “You can’t prove what we told in that affidavit isn’t true,” reaffirmed Gee-gee. Only she and Gid-up could know it was a “frame-up”; they had builded carefully and were sure of their ground. “We know our rights and we’re going to have them. We’re not afraid of you.” “Then why are you here?” quietly. “That lawyer at the house said we might as well see you, just to call your bluff. He said, since we had told the truth, we had nothing to fear.” “I don’t think you’re quite so confident as you seem,” observed the monocle-man. “My note awoke a little uneasiness, or you wouldn’t be here. This young lady,” turning to Gid-up, “suffered a mild case of stage fright, if I am any judge of human nature.” “Me?” said Gid-up. “I defy you.” “Here’s the answer,” replied the monocle-man, taking another paper from his pocket. “What’s that?” said Gee-gee scornfully. “I suppose it’s some lies from him.” Alluding to the commodore. “The lawyer told me to be prepared for them.”