Gard had found his man, and had in his pocket Sawyer’s affidavit to having taken the acknowledgment of the Hallard deed. He had learned, too, that this deed ante-dated the one of record to Westcott’s client. This personage, he had ascertained, was a mere tool of the attorney’s. The actual holder of the property was Westcott himself.
He was greatly troubled, on arriving at Sylvania, to find that Mrs. Hallard had gone away. He tortured his mind for an explanation of her sudden journey. He was afraid that she had been again misled by Westcott. If the lawyer really had found that lost packet there was no predicting the uses to which he might put it in making representations to Mrs. Hallard.
Sing Fat could give him no information beyond the fact that Mrs. Hallard had ridden out to the Palo Verde, returning in “one velly big hully-up,” to prepare for a journey to Prescott. He could not tell when she would return.
Gard pondered the matter in sorry perplexity. He could not fathom the mystery, but he feared—everything. He dreaded what might have taken place at the Palo Verde. What had taken Mrs. Hallard there? What had Sandy Larch been told? What did Miss Anderson believe?
The last was the question of his deepest thought. He was not fearful for himself, of anything that might come. The doubts and the temptations of the situation had all been settled in his mind. He had learned stern lessons in solitude, and he brought them sternly to bear in this exigency. This thing had been given to him, Gabriel Gard, to carry through. Whatever might come to him as one human being did not count. It was the life of the world that counted, and to see justice done was just now, for him, a part of that life. If payment seemed to fall upon him, who was he, that he could not bear his burden? Neither his courage nor his purpose faltered before the outlook.
But that Helen Anderson should believe of him the things he was sure that Westcott would try to make her believe, was more than his reason told him need be borne. The mastering desire of his soul at this moment was that she should believe in him; that she should know the truth from his own lips before she judged him. The vague plan that had suggested itself to him on the way up now took definite shape. He resolved to ride out to the Palo Verde; to see Helen if possible, and get her to listen to the whole story. She should believe him, if there was any power in truth to make its impress upon a true nature.
“She is true,” he told himself, recalling her clear, candid eyes, her fine, fearless spirit. “She will believe me. She must believe me. Oh, God, help me make her believe me! It’s all I ask!”
He had no intention of putting his fate to further test. When he should be free; able to hold up his head without shame among men; then the right to speak would be his. Then he would lay his life at her feet. It was hers. But now, he would have given his last drop of blood just to know that she knew, and that she believed him.
He left Mrs. Hallard’s papers, securely sealed, in Sing Fat’s care, seeing them put in a place of safety before he turned away to where he had put up his horse.
The animal was still feeding; for himself Gard had forgotten the need of food. He hesitated, loth to take the creature out.