"Rumors can be started too easily.

I don't see how it was possible for a man to fall into a mine shaft and not struggle there long enough for a man who had heard his shout to see him." "Who brought the news ?" Rodaine asked the question.
Fairchild deliberately chose his words: "A tall, thin, ugly old man, with mean squint eyes and a scar straight up his forehead." A flush appeared on the other man's face.

Fairchild saw his hands contract, then loosen.
"You 're trying to insult my father!" "Your father ?" Fairchild looked at him blankly.

"Would n't that be a rather difficult job--especially when I don't know him ?" "You described him." "And you recognized the description." "Maurice! Stop it!" The girl was tugging at Rodaine's sleeve.

"Don't say anything more.