“Why—­why, Mr. Bradley,” he stammered, “I didn’t know it was you; will you take a seat?”

“Where are Hugh and Tom?”

“They went out some time ago.”

“Where did they go?” demanded Harvey in an angry voice.

“Down to—­the—­that is, I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do know.  I want no trifling; I will not stand it.”

The fellow, though flustered at first, quickly regained his self-possession.  He had evidently checked himself just in time to keep back some important knowledge.

“Where have they gone?” repeated the superintendent, bursting with impatience.

But Jack Hansell was himself again—­sullen and insolent as ever.  He had an intense dislike of his employer—­a dislike that had deepened within the past few days.  He slowly sat down and smoked a full minute before making reply to Harvey, who felt like throttling him.

“I told you I didn’t know,” he finally said, looking into the embers and speaking as if to the glowing coals.

“But you do know.”

“So I do, but I know another thing as well, and that is that there ain’t any reason why I should tell you if I don’t choose to.”

It took a great effort of the will for Harvey to hold himself from doing violence to the man who said he was not bound to tell what he preferred to keep to himself:  but the superintendent saw that nothing could be gained by violence.  The man who can keep cool during a dispute has ten-fold the advantage over one who does not restrain himself.

After all, Jack Hansell was of small account.  It was O’Hara, his master, and mayhap his companion, whom Harvey Bradley must see.  If Tom chose to tell the truth he could do so, but if he would not, no one could force him to say the words.

All this was clear to the young man, who, checking his anger, added in a lower tone: 

“You are not bound to answer any question I ask you, even when you have no reason for your refusal, but you cannot decline to say when they are likely to be back.”

“Yes, I can, for I don’t know.”

“I wish to see O’Hara on a matter of the first importance.”

“But he may not want to see you, and I ain’t the man to make things unpleasant for a friend.”

“You certainly expect them back to-night, do you not?”

Jack smoked his pipe a few seconds before giving heed to this simple question.  Then, turning slowly toward Harvey, who was still standing in the middle of the room, he said: 

“You had better sit down, for you won’t find Hugh and Tom any sooner by keeping your feet.  What do you want to see ’em for?”

“That I can explain only to them, though it is Hugh whom I particularly want to meet.”

The superintendent took the seat to which he was invited.  It was the stool on which he sat when in the cabin before.  It cost him a greater effort than can be explained to defer to this defiant fellow, who a few weeks or even days before would have cringed at his feet like a dog.