“Of a certainty there ees some mistake. This ees Dr. Keith Morely—”
“No mistake, father. Look at him. Ask him, if that is necessary.”
“My son, you a mail robber? In God’s name, why?”
“I should like to know that myself,” Hardy commented dryly.
“Tell us.” Again that half whispering voice of Father du Bois.
“There was something in the mail I had to have.” Morley’s voice fell low. “I cut across the country to intercept it. I intended getting what I wanted and return here.
“All would have gone as I had planned, save that Sergeant Hardy happened to be traveling for a distance with the driver. He saw my face. I knew then that I would have to leave the country. I intended doing so, but fate willed otherwise.”
“Mais, you were gone so long.” Father du Bois paused in bewilderment.
“A blizzard came up. The sergeant and I both sought shelter in the same cabin. He was sick—with the pest. I stayed with him until he was convalescent.”
“He saved my life, father.” For the first time during Morely’s narrative Hardy spoke.