"She told you what I had just said to her?"

"Vaguely," Tom answered, and turning squarely on his father asked: "Would you mind telling me the whole truth about it?"

"Why do you ask?"

The question came from the father's lips with a sudden snap, so suddenly, so sharply the boy lost his composure, hung his head, and stammered with an attempt at a smile:

"Oh--naturally curious--I suppose it's a secret?"

"Yes--I wish I could tell you, but I can't"--he paused and spoke with sudden decision:

"Ask Cleo to come here."

CHAPTER XVI

THE CHALLENGE

Norton was morally certain now that the boy was interested in Helen. How far this interest had gone he could only guess.

What stunned him was that Tom had already taken sides with the girl. He had not said so in words. But his embarra.s.sment and uneasiness could mean but one thing. He must move with caution, yet he must act at once and end the dangerous situation. A clandestine love affair was a hideous possibility.

Up to a moment ago he had held such a thing out of the question with the boy's high-strung sense of honor and his lack of experience with girls.

He was afraid now of both the boy and girl. She had convinced him of her purity when the first words had fallen from her lips. Yet wiser men had been deceived before. The thought of her sleek, tawny mother came with a shudder. No daughter could escape such an inheritance.

There was but one thing to do and it must be done quickly. He would send Helen abroad and if necessary tell her the whole hideous truth.

He lifted his head at the sound of Cleo's footsteps, rose and confronted her. As his deep-set eyes surveyed her he realized that the hour had come for a fight to the finish.

She gazed at him steadily with a look of undisguised hate:

"What is it?"

He took a step closer, planted his long legs apart and met her greenish eyes with an answering flash of rage:

"When I think of your d.a.m.ned impudence, using my typewriter and letterheads to send an invitation to that girl to spend the summer here with Tom at home, and signing my name----"

"I have the right to use your name with her," she broke in with a sneer.

"It will be the last time I'll give you the chance."

"We'll see," was the cool reply.

Norton slowly drew a chair to the table, seated himself and said:

"I want the truth from you now."

"You'll get it. I've never had to lie to you, at least----"

"I've no time to bandy words--will you tell me exactly what's been going on between Tom and Helen during my absence in this campaign?"

"I haven't seen anything!" was the light answer.

His lips moved to say that she lied, but he smiled instead. What was the use? He dropped his voice to a careless, friendly tone:

"They have seen each other every day?"

"Certainly."

"How many hours have they usually spent together?"

"I didn't count them."

Norton bit his lips to keep back an oath:

"How often have they been riding?"

"Perhaps a dozen times."

"They returned late occasionally?"

"Twice."

"How late?"

"It was quite dark----"

"What time?--eight, nine, ten or eleven o'clock?"

"As late as nine one night, half-past nine another--the moon was shining."

She said it with a taunting smile.

"Were they alone?"

"Yes."

"You took pains to leave them alone, I suppose?"

"Sometimes"--she paused and looked at him with a smile that was a sneer.

"What are you afraid of?"

He returned her gaze steadily:

"Anything is possible of your daughter--the thought of it strangles me!"