"You!" cried Gladys. "Why you said you didn't even know him--that you had never seen him before to-day." "Precisely!" "Then will you tell me what you mean?" "I will tell you what I was told--you can help me guess what it means," she answered. And she told her. "It surely is astonishing!" was Gladys' comment when she had heard Stephanie's tale. "It's true to the worst they say about him--to strike at a man through a woman! or rather to strike at you because somehow you are involved in the injury which Montague appears to have done him. Tell Montague at once--he will know what it means and he should be warned. Can't you imagine what it is?" "I haven't an idea," said Stephanie. "Strange!" reflected Gladys, with a serious shake of her head. "You are intimately concerned, it seems, and yet you haven't done a thing. Well, we shall have to wait for Montague to solve the riddle." She surmised that it had something to do with Stephanie's return--that she was the _casus belli_--but she did not suggest it. And Stephanie, while thinking the same, did not voice it; it seemed too far fetched. Moreover, it was predicated on Pendleton's voluntary defense of her in her absence. And the latter, she thought, would be assuming much more than the circumstances warranted, and would make her appear exceedingly well satisfied of his regard. "You're very fortunate to have been warned thus early," Gladys continued. "Montague will have time to prepare--at least, he won't be taken completely unawares. Father knows Porshinger in business, and he says that if a man gets the best of him to the extent of a nickel, he will square off though it takes a year. Of course I know that a man's method in business isn't necessarily carried into his private life, but Porshinger does not come under that class." "How about Murchison?" Stephanie asked. "Not quite so bad--he is rather better mannered and has more feeling. The conversation that Marcia detailed illustrates the difference between the men, I should say. Murchison was for letting well enough alone--which only seemed to make Porshinger the more determined." "On the whole, Porshinger must be a very pleasant fellow to have camping on one's trail!" smiled Stephanie. "I'm curious to hear Montague's opinion." "I'd rather hear him express it to a _man_--it would likely be a trifle more picturesque!" Gladys laughed. "What can Porshinger do?" Stephanie asked. "What _can't_ he do with all his money and financial influence! God is on the side of the heaviest bank account." "All things being equal, I grant it; but there is a wide difference between Montague Pendleton and Charles Porshinger as men--and I've faith in the blood. It will win, Gladys, it will win." "Blood doesn't count for much in these automobile pace days," Gladys responded. "It is the money that talks." "Blood counts for much in such a contest."