"There are personal considerations to every question, Percival,"
answered Mr. Early, shading his face with his hand, and watching Dick's
expression with artistic appreciation of the changes that he felt sure
he should see.
"Not for me," said Dick. "Thank Heaven my hands are clean, and I can do
whatever I believe to be right."
"Yes, for you," answered Mr. Early suavely, and then he broke into a
suppressed laugh. "Why, you young idiot, if you care to be told, your
feet are limed, and the sooner you recognize the fact the better."
"What do you mean?" cried Dick with fierce resentment.
"Oh, sit down, my boy," said Mr. Early, still amiable. "There's no use
in rampaging. I just want to tell you a little story and show you a
little piece of paper."
Dick sat down and glared at his guest.
"Your wife--" Dick started up with something like a groan. "Yes, your
wife, Percival. You see a man does not always stand alone. Your wife has
a necklace of worthless rubies, which she has told you was a present
from our dear departed Swami. If people only knew about it, there might
be a certain amount of scandal about a young woman's receiving a
supposedly valuable gift from a swindler who was also a social idol.
Don't go off your head, Dick. You've got to listen to me. As a matter of
fact, she lied to you when she told you he gave them to her. She bought
them; and she had not the money to pay for them. I suppose it was at his
suggestion that she borrowed the sum from me. That would have been all
right, except that she gave me a note signed by Richard Percival, and
she quite omitted to tell me that her husband was away at the time. I
found that out by chance afterward, after I had supplied her demand.
Would you like to see the forgery, Dick? It's an ugly word, but we might
just as well be plain with each other."
Dick's tongue had grown dry and speechless, so that he seemed to have no
power to check this recital, and now all he could do was to reach out an
eager hand.
"Not so fast," said Mr. Early. "It's mine, not yours. And it will take
more than the five thousand dollars out of which it swindled me to buy
it back. It sounds bad, doesn't it? A forgery, connected with a rascal
who was the talk of the country. I should not myself care to pose again
as the dupe of a woman and her friendly counterfeiter, but that would be
a small matter compared with the hail of scandal that would whir around
the head of that pretty little butterfly, your wife."