“Yes.”
“I’d like to say yes, but I am just starting on a Western trip, and I shall be gone at least a month.”
Great crystal tears formed in Natalie’s eyes and one rolled down her cheek. She couldn’t possibly help this, the teardrops were beyond her control. But they stood her in good stead, for Alan Ford couldn’t bear to see a woman cry. It unnerved him as no danger or terror could do.
“Don’t, please,” he said, impulsively.
“But I’m so disappointed! You see Barry Stannard has confessed——”
“What! Young Stannard confessed! Then what do you want of me?”
“Because Barry didn’t do it. He confessed to save me.”
“And did you do it?” The question was in the tone of a casual every-day inquiry, but few people would have replied anything but the truth with Alan Ford’s gaze upon them.
“No, I didn’t. You must come up there and find out who did do it. Oh, can’t you manage somehow?”
The coaxing face was brightened by a sudden hope, and Alan Ford couldn’t bring himself to dash that hope from the lovely beseeching girl.