Her eyes were on his face, searching it as though she would read his hidden thoughts.
“I can believe that,” she said at last, “if you say it is true.”
He drew a deep, tremulous breath.
“Tell me exactly what happened,” Helen urged, and the way opened, he went on with the whole pitiful, sordid story, the girl listening, never flinching, though her very lips grew white when he told her what his sentence had been.
He told her of his escape, but omitted mention of his visit to Blue Gulch. He did not bring Westcott’s name in at all, or dwell upon the treachery he had met with. He told of finding Mrs. Hallard’s deed; of his search for her, and of the trouble he had found her in, and Helen’s heart warmed toward him because of what he still did not say; for she recognized Westcott’s share in this matter. He came at last to the lost packet, and the danger that he was in if anyone found it.
“I think somebody has it,” he said, “and that somebody will be getting after me. I am going to try to move first; but may be I sha’ n’t be able to.”
“Do you think it was Mr. Westcott who found those papers?” Helen asked, suddenly, and Gard started.
“Did he say anything to you?” he demanded. “What did he tell you?”
She drew herself up, proudly.
“I am not in Mr. Westcott’s confidence,” she said. “He has never spoken to me on the subject.”