“But why?” finally.
Ineffable scorn was in the deputy’s answer:
“It might hurt the town to have this murder stirred up and the story sent broadcast—make prospective settlers hesitate to invest in such a dangerous community—that’s what was given me, along with my instructions to quit. But another reason is that the man implicated belongs to one of them secret orders.”
“I can’t believe it!” she cried piteously.
“I couldn’t either, until I had to. But I’ve got sense enough to know that I’m done, with nobody to back up my hand. After all, I’m only a deputy,” he said savagely. “I’m all broke up, I can tell you!”
“But aside from the way in which it leaves me it seems such a—such an insult to Uncle Joe—as though nobody cared—as though—” she could not finish.
“I know—I know,” he nodded gravely.
“I’m going up to see the mayor—to beg him to keep on—to tell him what it means to me!” she declared passionately.
“I wouldn’t, Miss Prentice,” Lingle advised.
“I must! It can’t stop like this! He shall understand what it means to me—this suspicion—this disgrace that is nearly killing me!”