The Shadow of a Man

by E. W. Hornung

"I agree," he said slowly, "if—our friend is right."

"Whom do you mean?" inquired Moya, up in arms on the instant.

"Rigden, of course."

"So you think he may be mistaken about the tracks, do you?"

"I think it's possible."

"You know a lot about such things yourself, of course! You have a wide experience of the bush, haven't you? What do the police think?"

"They're leaving it till the morning. They hope for the best."

"So everybody is pleased except my brilliant brother! I want to know why—I want to know more about these tracks."

He told her more with unruffled mien; he rather enjoyed her sarcasm; it both justified and stimulated his own. Sarcasm he held to be the salt of intercourse. It was certainly a game at which two Bethunes could always play.

"But we shall see in the morning," concluded Theodore. "The heathen is to be put upon the scent at dawn; if he passes it, well and good."