net challenged them both. "I certainly don't see where you found anything to back up your charge against grandfather!" he said to his cousin more directly. "Last week you told me that grandfather was mixed up in a murder; to-night you say it again and give me a lot of proof—stuff which you think is proof—that you got mostly from spooks. I told you last week to be careful; and I tell you now," he turned and included Barney in his warning, "you be careful—you be pretty damned careful what you say and do. The family's stood for a good deal already from Ethel because she's in the family, and if she wants to act like a mental case, we'll make allowances for her. But we'll make no allowances for you, Loutrelle!" Bennet was working himself up and getting back at Barney now for his discomfiture earlier in the evening.
Again he stopped, waiting for dispute; but again was disappointed. Barney was standing, as Bennet was also now on his feet.
"You make me sick, both of you," Bennet blurted in disgust, glancing from Barney to his cousin. "You're a fine one, thinking such things and saying such things about grandfather with a stranger; and you don't believe them; you know you don't; and you prove it."
"How does she prove it?" Barney asked.
"Because you don't dare do anything. You say my grandfather's mixed up in a murder,—a first-degree, premeditated, capital crime which Kincheloe committed. If you believed it, you'd get Kincheloe at least, locked up."
"Where is Kincheloe?" Barney returned. "Here in Chicago?"
"Of course he is."
