Ben Blair Part 38

Ben took a step forward, but his hands were still in his pockets. "Mr.

Sidwell," he said, "we may as well save time and try to understand each other. In some ways I am a bit like an Indian. I never smoke except with a friend, and I am not sure you are a friend of mine. To be candid with you, I believe you are not."

Hough stirred in his chair, but Sidwell remained impa.s.sive save that the convivial smile vanished.

A quarter of a minute pa.s.sed. Once the host took up his gla.s.s as if to drink, but put it down untasted. At last he indicated the vacant chair.

"Won't you be seated?" he invited.

Ben sat down.

"You say," continued Sidwell, "that I am not your friend. The statement and your actions carry the implication that of necessity, then, we must be enemies."

The speaker was sparring for time. His brain was not yet normal, but it was clearing rapidly. He saw this was no ordinary man he had to deal with, no ordinary circ.u.mstance; and his plan of campaign was unevolved.

"I fail to see why," he continued.

"Do you?" said Ben, quietly.

Sidwell lit a cigar nonchalantly and smoked for a moment in silence.

"Yes," he reiterated. "I fail to see why. To have made you an enemy implies that I have done you an injury, and I recall no way in which I could have offended you."

Ben indicated Hough with a nod of his head. "Do you wish a third party to hear what we have to say?" he inquired.

Sidwell looked at the questioner narrowly. Deep in his heart he was thankful that they two were not alone. He did not like the look in the countryman's blue eyes.

"Mr. Hough," he said with dignity, "is a friend of mine. If either of you must leave the room, most a.s.suredly it will not be he." His eyes returned to those of the visitor, held there with an effort. "By the bye," he challenged, "what is it we have to say, anyway? So far as I can see, there's no point where we touch."

Ben returned the gaze steadily. "Absolutely none?" he asked.

"Absolutely none." Sidwell spoke with an air of finality.

The countryman leaned a bit forward and rested his elbow upon his knee, his chin upon his hand.

"Suppose I suggest a point then: Miss Florence Baker."

Sidwell stiffened with exaggerated dignity. "I never discuss my relations with a lady, even with a friend. I should be less apt to do so in speaking with a stranger."

The lids of Ben's eyes tightened just a shade. "Then I'll have to ask you to make an exception to the rule," he said slowly.

"In that case," Sidwell responded quickly, "I'll refuse."

For a moment silence fell. Through the open window came the ceaseless drone of the s.h.i.+fting mult.i.tude on the street below.

"Nevertheless, I insist," said Ben, calmly.

Sidwell's face flushed, although he was quite sober now. "And I must still refuse," he said, rising. "Moreover, I must request that you leave the room. You forget that you are in my home!"

Ben arose calmly and walked to the door through which he had entered.

The key was in the lock, and turning it he put it in his pocket. Still without haste he returned to his seat.

"That this is your home, and that you were its dictator before I came and will be after I leave, I do not contest," he said; "but temporarily the place has changed hands. I do not think you were quite in earnest when you refused to talk with me."

For answer, Sidwell jerked a cord beside the table. A bell rang vigorously in the rear of the apartments, and the big negro hurried into the room.

"Alec," directed the master, "call a policeman at once! At once--do you hear?"

"Yes, sah," and the servant started to obey; but the visitor's eye caught his.

"Alec," said Ben, steadily, "don't do that! I'll be the first person to leave this room!"

Instantly Sidwell was on his feet, his face convulsed with pa.s.sion.

"Curse you!" he cried. "You'll pay for this! I'll teach you what it means to hold up a man in his own house!" He turned to his servant with a look that made the latter recoil. "I want you to understand that when I give an order I mean it. Go!"

Blair was likewise on his feet, his long body stretched to its full height, his blue eyes fastened upon the face of the panic-stricken darky.

"Alec," he repeated evenly, "you heard what I said." Without a motion save of his head he indicated a seat in the corner of the room. "Sit down!"

Sidwell took a step forward, his clenched fists raised menacingly.

"Blair! you--you--"

"Yes."

"You--"

"Certainly, I--"

That was all. It was not a lengthy conversation, or a brilliant one, but it was adequate. Face to face, the two men stood looking in each other's eyes, each taking his opponent's measure. Hough had also risen; he expected bloodshed; but not once did Blair stir as much as an eyelid, and after that first step Sidwell also halted. Beneath his supercilious caste dominance he was a physical coward, and at the supreme test he weakened. The flood of anger pa.s.sed as swiftly as it had come, leaving him impotent. He stood for a moment, and then the clenched fist dropped to his side.

For the first time, Ben Blair moved. Unemotionally as before, his nod indicated the chair in the corner.

"Sit over there as long as I stay, Alec," he directed; and the negro responded with the alacrity of a well-trained dog.

Ben turned to the big man. "And you, too, Hough. My business has nothing to do with you, but it may be well to have a witness. Be seated, please."

Hough obeyed in silence. Sober as Sidwell now, his mind grasped the situation, and in spite of himself he felt his sympathy going out to this masterful plainsman.

Ben Blair now turned to the host, and as he did so his wiry figure underwent a transformation that lived long in the spectators' minds.

With his old characteristic motion, his hands went into his trousers'

pockets, his chest expanded, his great chin lifted until, looking down, his eyes were half closed.

"You, Mr. Sidwell," he said, "can stand or sit, as you please; but one thing I warn you not to do--don't lie to me. We're in the home of lies just now, but it can't help you. Your face says you are used to having your own way, right or wrong. Now you'll know the reverse. So long as you speak the truth, I won't hurt you, no matter what you say. If you don't, and believe in G.o.d, you'd best make your peace with Him. Do you doubt that?"

One glance only Sidwell raised to the towering face, and his eyes fell.

Every trace of fight, of effrontery, had left him, and he dropped weakly into his chair.

"No, I don't doubt you," he said.