"
"It will read well in the papers," exclaimed the son.
"The papers are to know nothing about it," I broke in. "All knowledge
of your connection with Mr. or Mrs. Blake is to be buried in this
spot before we or you leave it. Not a word of her or him is to cross
the lips of either of you from this hour. I have set that down as a
condition and it has got to be kept."
"You have, have you," thundered in chorus from father and son. "And
who are you to make conditions, and what do you think we are that you
expect us to keep them? Can you do anymore than put us back from
where we came from?"
For reply I took from my pocket the ring I had fished out of the ashes
of their kitchen stove on that memorable visit to their house, and
holding it up before their faces, looked them steadily in the eye.
A sudden wild glare followed by a bluish palor that robbed their
countenances of their usual semblance of daring ferocity, answered me
beyond my fondest hopes.
"I got that out of the stove where you had burned your prison
clothing," said I. "It is a cheap affair, but it will send you to the
gallows if I choose to use it against you. The pedlar--"
"Hush," exclaimed the father in a low choked tone greatly in contrast
to any he had yet used in all our dealings with him.
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