“What’s that?” exclaimed Callum, straightening up in the most dynamic way and bethinking him of the approved social procedure in all such cases.  He should be very angry.  He should demand and exact proper satisfaction in some form or other—­by blows very likely if his honor had been in any way impugned.  “What is it he says about my sister?  What right has he to mention her name here, anyhow?  He doesn’t know her.”

Pethick affected to be greatly concerned lest he cause trouble between Callum and Hibbs.  He protested that he did not want to, when, in reality, he was dying to tell.  At last he came out with, “Why, he’s circulated the yarn that your sister had something to do with this man Cowperwood, who was tried here recently, and that that’s why he’s just gone to prison.”

“What’s that?” exclaimed Callum, losing the make-believe of the unimportant, and taking on the serious mien of some one who feels desperately.  “He says that, does he?  Where is he?  I want to see if he’ll say that to me.”

Some of the stern fighting ability of his father showed in his slender, rather refined young face.

“Now, Callum,” insisted Pethick, realizing the genuine storm he had raised, and being a little fearful of the result, “do be careful what you say.  You mustn’t have a row in here.  You know it’s against the rules.  Besides he may be drunk.  It’s just some foolish talk he’s heard, I’m sure.  Now, for goodness’ sake, don’t get so excited.”  Pethick, having evoked the storm, was not a little nervous as to its results in his own case.  He, too, as well as Callum, himself as the tale-bearer, might now be involved.

But Callum by now was not so easily restrained.  His face was quite pale, and he was moving toward the old English grill-room, where Hibbs happened to be, consuming a brandy-and-soda with a friend of about his own age.  Callum entered and called him.

“Oh, Hibbs!” he said.

Hibbs, hearing his voice and seeing him in the door, arose and came over.  He was an interesting youth of the collegiate type, educated at Princeton.  He had heard the rumor concerning Aileen from various sources—­other members of the club, for one—­and had ventured to repeat it in Pethick’s presence.

“What’s that you were just saying about my sister?” asked Callum, grimly, looking Hibbs in the eye.

“Why—­I—­” hesitated Hibbs, who sensed trouble and was eager to avoid it.  He was not exceptionally brave and looked it.  His hair was straw-colored, his eyes blue, and his cheeks pink.  “Why—­nothing in particular.  Who said I was talking about her?” He looked at Pethick, whom he knew to be the tale-bearer, and the latter exclaimed, excitedly: 

“Now don’t you try to deny it, Hibbs.  You know I heard you?”

“Well, what did I say?” asked Hibbs, defiantly.

“Well, what did you say?” interrupted Callum, grimly, transferring the conversation to himself.  “That’s just what I want to know.”