"I brought Bobby over from the club with me--and a friend, Frances," he said, after asking Bansemer to sit down for a while. His keen eyes noted that her hand shook as she put the poker back into its place. As he walked into the hall to throw aside his coat, Frances Cable turned to Bansemer with a significant look, shaking her head in mute appeal for silence.
Bobby Rigby came into the room, followed by a tall stranger, whom he presented to Mrs. Cable. Bansemer, standing near the library table, caught a glimpse of the stranger's face as he took Mrs. Cable's hand. He started violently, unable at first to believe his eyes. A chill ran through his frame and his expression changed from wonder to consternation.
"Mr. Bansemer, my friend, Mr. Harbert."
"I have met Mr. Bansemer," said Harbert, with a cold stare straight into the other's eyes. They were on opposite sides of the table.
"In New York," said Bansemer firmly, his eyes unflinching in their return. He noticed that Harbert's look was uncompromisingly antagonistic, but that was to be expected. It troubled him, however, to see something like unfriendliness in Rigby's greeting.
Harbert was the man who had fought him to rout in New York. This keen, aggressive young barrister had driven him into a corner from which he escaped only by merest chance. He knew James Bansemer for what he was. It had not been his fault that the man crawled through a small avenue of technicalities and avoided the punishment that had seemed so certain. He had waged war bitterly against the blackmailer, and he missed complete victory by a hair's breadth.
Feeling the strain of the situation, Rigby talked with earnest volubility. He led the conversation into many lines--the war in the Philippines, the banquet, the play which Jane and Graydon were seeing. The thought of the play brought a shade of despair to his brow--pretty Miss Clegg was in the party with that "mucker" Medford.
James Bansemer had been cold with speculation every instant of the time; had felt that Harbert's condemning gaze had never left him. Apparently listening to the others, he found himself wondering what Harbert's trip to Chicago signified. Gradually it dawned upon him that his old-time foe was not through with his fighting. The look in Rigby's eyes meant something, after all--and Rigby was Graydon's best friend! Harbert was in Chicago to act--and to act first! This thought shot into the man's brain like burning metal. It set every nerve afire. His nemesis had already begun his work. Before he left the Cable home that night he would be asking his host and hostess what they knew of one James Bansemer's past.