the effect of his own disturbing power, that to Ezekiel was equal to
a proof of the truth of his opinions. It might even encourage him to
repeat this absurd story elsewhere with his own construction upon his
reception of it. After all it was only Ezekiel's opinion--an opinion too
preposterous for even a moment's serious consideration. Blandford
alive, and a petty defaulter! Blandford above the earth and complacently
abandoning his wife and home to another! Blandford--perhaps a sneaking,
cowardly Nemesis--hiding in the shadow for future--impossible! It really
was enough to make him laugh.

He did laugh, albeit with an uneasy sense that only a few years ago
he would have struck down the man who had thus traduced his friend's
memory.

"You've been overtaxing your brain in patent-medicine circulars,
Corwin," he said in a roughly rallying manner, "and you've got rather
too much highfalutin and bitters mixed with your opinions. After that
yarn of yours you must be dry. What'll you take? I haven't got any New
England rum, but I can give you some ten-year-old aguardiente made on
the place."

As he spoke he lifted a decanter and glass from a small table which
Manuel had placed in the veranda.

"I guess not," said Ezekiel dryly. "It's now goin' on five years since
I've been a consistent temperance man."

"In everything but melons, and criticism of your neighbor, eh?" said
Demorest, pouring out a glass of the liquor.