"When I meet an
ugly fact I look it in the face. This man Lindsay was making a great
impression on you and Bee. Neither of you seemed able quite to realize
his--his deficiencies, let us say. I felt myself at a disadvantage
with him because he's such a remarkably virile young man and he
constantly reminded you both of the West you love. It seemed fair to
all of us to try him out--to find out whether at bottom he was a decent
fellow or not. So I laid a little trap to find out."
Bromfield was sailing easily into his version of the affair. It was
the suavest interpretation of his conduct that he had been able to
prepare, one that put him in the role of a fair-minded man looking to
the best interests of all.
"Not the way Durand tells it," answered the miner bluntly. "He says
you paid him a thousand dollars to arrange a trap to catch Lindsay."
"Either he misunderstood me or he's distorting the facts," claimed the
clubman with an assumption of boldness.
"That ought to be easy to prove. We'll make an appointment with him
for this afternoon and check up by the dictagraph."
Bromfield laughed uneasily. "Is that necessary, Mr. Whitford? Surely
my word is good. I have the honor to tell you that I did nothing
discreditable."
"It would have been good with me a week ago," replied the Coloradoan
gravely. "But since then--well, you know what's happened since then.
I don't want to hurt your feelings, Clarendon, but I may as well say
frankly that I can't accept your account without checking up on it.
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