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Brundage had turned to a pigeon-holed desk that was in the room, and with the careless swiftness of a thief, indifferent as to the state in which he leaves things, began to go through the papers.

"Here! Here, you keep from that!" Seibert shouted, taking a step toward the desk; but Williams placed himself before Seibert, who then glared blankly, as if he had suddenly lost what he had in mind and must search through all of his thoughts to find it again.

With almost a roar, as if the idea had come propulsively back into mind: "Waller he owed me more than what I took. For years I must wait to get my money. I made money for old Combe, who is a fool, to pay myself back too. Look how I cleaned his groves and spread manure!"

"Why not?" said Brundage grimly across his shoulder. "At the rate you were going you would have owned it all in a year or two!"

"Waller owed you?" Williams demanded. It was evident that he did not believe such a thing.

"Ach! It was a Yankee trick."

"Waller was a friend to me. Prove his debt and I'll pay it."