"I shan't see much more of you," he said.
They talked but little however. Nap sat smoking in a corner and hardly opened his lips. Bertie came in late, looking worn and miserable.
"I wish you would tell me what to do with Tawny Hudson," he said. "I believe the fellow's crazy; and he's pining too. I don't believe he has eaten anything for days."
Since Lucas's death Tawny Hudson had attached himself to Bertie, following him to and fro like a lost dog, somewhat to Dot's dismay; for, deeply though she pitied the great half-breed, there was something about him that frightened her.
"I don't know what to do with him," Bertie said. "He's as gaunt as a wolf. He's hanging about somewhere outside now. Wish you'd take him along to America with you, Doctor."
"Call him in," said Capper, "and let me have a look at him."
Bertie went to the door and whistled.
There was no reply.
"Hudson!" he called. "Tawny! where are you?"
But there came no answer out of the shadows. The only voice which Tawny would obey was still.