"Oh, he said he and his party generally got to hear all that they wanted to know about people. You and the man who left them had not been here very long before they were aware of it. However, it did not suit their purpose to molest either of you, although they meant to punish their renegade comrade at some future date. I was deeply thankful to know that you were here in safety, and I came for you as soon as I could. Whiterock left this message for you, Cyril—'Tell your son,' he said, 'that I've found at last that honesty is the best policy. And tell him, too, that he did right to speak those brave, true words to us, and right, too, not to pretend, even for an hour, that he could be one of us—villains.'"
"Poor Whiterock," said Cyril softly. "He saved my life once, father! He was good to me then."
"We will only think of that," said Mr. Morton, "and of his kindness in telling me where I might find you. And now, my boy, we must go to bed. To-morrow, as I have had to give up my fruitless search for your uncle, we will start for home."
"Home," murmured Cyril, as his head touched the pillow, "with father," and he fell asleep. A smile rested on his face. He was a happy boy.
CHAPTER XIII.
LEAVING THE SAW-MILL.
"This is very awkward! Very!" exclaimed Mr. Morton the next day, when, on joining his host at the great breakfast-table, he heard that his guide of the day before had changed his mind about returning with him to the nearest railway station, twenty miles away. The man wished to remain at the saw-mill, having found an old mate there.
"I can do with him very well," said the saw-miller, "as I am rather short of hands just now. All the same, I don't wish to take the fellow from you."
"Well, of course, I engaged him to guide me here and back, and I can make it worth his while to return with me."
"Oh, I'll compel him to do that, if you like!" said Mr. Ellison. "But you might find him a bit nasty. I know the man, who has been here before; he has an ugly temper."