“He came here like the spy that he was,” snorted the old man. “He came here to my house pretending to want to rent land, and in that way got into my confidence and had me talk about family matters; but he didn't want to rent land. When he failed to come back my suspicions were roused and I made inquiries. I found out that he was the sharpest, keenest man among mountain revenue detectives, and that he had no idea of leaving his present location. Now I'd simply like to know what you and he are after. I haven't got anything for you--not a dollar in the world, nor any property that isn't mortgaged up to the hilt. Why did you send a man of that kind to me?” “You actually astound me, sir,” Nelson said. “I hardly know what to say.” “I reckon you don't--now that I hurl the unexpected truth into your teeth. You didn't think I'd be sharp enough to inquire about that fellow Baker, did you? You thought a man living here in a city as big as this would let a green country lout like that get him in a trap. Huh! But I wasn't a fool, sir. You thought you were getting facts from me through him, but you were not, by a long shot. I wasn't going to tell a stranger like that delicate family matters. God knows your father's conduct was disgraceful enough without my unfolding his life to a coarse greenhorn so long after his death. You know the reputation my brother Charles had, don't you?” “Not till it came from you, sir,” said Nelson, coldly. “Baker told me you said he was a little wild, that he drank--” “My father kicked him out of our home, I tell you,” the old man snapped. “He told him never to darken his door again, after the way he lived before the war and during it. It completely broke that woman's heart.” Old Floyd pointed a' trembling finger at his mother's portrait. “I don't understand why you--how you can come here as you do, calling me your uncle as if you had a right to do so.” “Right to do so?--stop!” Nelson took him up sharply. “What do you mean? I've the right to ask that, sir, anyway.” “Oh, you know what I mean, I reckon. That man Baker intimated that you knew all about your family history. You know that your mother and my poor, deluded brother were never married, that they--” “Not married!” Nelson Floyd shrank as if he had been struck in the face. “For God's sake don't say that! I can stand anything but that.” “I won't ask you to believe me without ample proof,” old Floyd answered, harshly. “Wait here a minute.” Nelson sank into a chair, and pale and trembling, and with a heart that seemed dead within him, he watched the old man move slowly from the room. Old Floyd returned presently. An expression that seemed born of grim, palpitating satisfaction lay on his colorless face; a triumphant light blazed in his sullen eyes. He held some books and a package of letters in his hands.