"
Cluff snickered. The suspicion impinged upon Carroll's mind that
this wasn't going to be as simple as he had expected.
"Let that go for the moment. Do you know Miss Brewster's
insulter?"
"No."
"Are you telling me the truth?" asked the Southerner sternly.
The begoggled one's chin jerked up. To the trained eye of Cluff,
swift to interpret physical indications, it seemed that Perkins's
weight had almost imperceptibly shifted its center of gravity.
"Our Southern friend is going to run into something if he doesn't
look out," he reflected.
But there was no hint of trouble in Perkins's voice as he
replied:--
"I know who he is. I don't know him."
"Was it Von Plaanden?"
"Why do you want to know?"
"Because," returned the other, with convincing coolness, "if it
was, I intend to slap his face publicly as soon as I can find
him."
"You must do nothing of the sort."
Now, indeed, there was a change in the other's bearing. The words
came sharp and crisp.
"I shall do exactly as I said. Perhaps you will explain why you
think otherwise."
"Because you must have some sense somewhere about you.
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