Granger broke in upon the frenzy of his appeal, asking abruptly, "Where is Mordaunt now?"
If his face had not been in the shadow, Granger would have seen how Spurling's lips tightened as to withstand sudden pain, and his body shuddered at that question. "Oh, Mordaunt is all right," he said. "He left the Yukon soon after you left—he said that the fun was spoilt without you. I daresay he's seeking for El Dorado or else is married."
"You are sure of that?" asked Granger.
"Sure of what? All I know is that he quarrelled with me over your affair because he thought that I had not used you justly; shortly afterwards we broke up our partnership, and I was told that he had gone out through Alaska, via Michael to Seattle."
When the man at the back of the room said nothing, Spurling asked in a tone of horror, "Why, you don't think that I killed him too, do you,—just because I have owned to shooting one man?"
"I don't know what to think," replied Granger, speaking slowly; "no, certainly I do not think that you killed him, too."
"Then, what?"
"Never mind, since the matter's in doubt I will help you. What do you propose to do?"
"Go on till I come to the Forbidden River, and hide there till the hunt for me is over, and they think that I am dead."
"And then, if you survive?"