Demorest had risen angrily to his feet. But the next moment the utter impossibility of reaching this man's hidebound moral perception by even physical force hopelessly overcame him. It would only impress him with the effect of his own disturbing power, that to Ezekiel was equal to a proof of the truth of his opinions. It might even encourage him to repeat this absurd story elsewhere with his own construction upon his reception of it. After all it was only Ezekiel's opinion--an opinion too preposterous for even a moment's serious consideration. Blandford alive, and a petty defaulter! Blandford above the earth and complacently abandoning his wife and home to another! Blandford--perhaps a sneaking, cowardly Nemesis--hiding in the shadow for future--impossible! It really was enough to make him laugh. He did laugh, albeit with an uneasy sense that only a few years ago he would have struck down the man who had thus traduced his friend's memory. “You've been overtaxing your brain in patent-medicine circulars, Corwin,” he said in a roughly rallying manner, “and you've got rather too much highfalutin and bitters mixed with your opinions. After that yarn of yours you must be dry. What'll you take? I haven't got any New England rum, but I can give you some ten-year-old aguardiente made on the place.” As he spoke he lifted a decanter and glass from a small table which Manuel had placed in the veranda. “I guess not,” said Ezekiel dryly. “It's now goin' on five years since I've been a consistent temperance man.” “In everything but melons, and criticism of your neighbor, eh?” said Demorest, pouring out a glass of the liquor. “I hev my convictions,” said Ezekiel with affected meekness. “And I have mine,” said Demorest, tossing off the fiery liquor at a draft, “and it's that this is devilish good stuff. Sorry you can't take some. I'm afraid I'll have to get you to excuse me for a while. I have to take a ride over the ranch before turning in, to see if everything's right. The house is 'at your disposition,' as we say here. I'll see you later.” He walked away with a slight exaggeration of unconcern. Ezekiel watched him narrowly with colorless eyes beneath his white lashes. When he had gone he examined the thoroughly emptied glass of aguardiente, and, taking the decanter, sniffed critically at its sharp and potent contents. A smile of gratified discernment followed. It was clear to him that Demorest was a heavy drinker.