"Oh, yes, sir, he told me that too. What I'm inclined to think is that he discovered him to be a member of some big family in the south, and is anxious for their sake to keep the name secret. It's just the sort of thing some young blood might do if he were in an awkward hole—a chance of lifting a big sum such as this is a pretty strong temptation to anyone in a hole."
"That may be it. One never knows. He may even have been a friend of Durham's," Wallace said musingly. "Certainly something has upset him very much. You don't know what became of the papers he found, do you? The papers Mrs. Burke left with the Bank?" he added.
"I know nothing about them, sir; but he told me to ride out to Waroona Downs the first thing in the morning and tell Mrs. Burke to come in and see you. Perhaps she may know something about them."
"Ah, very likely," Wallace said. "He told us he had returned them to the owner. I expect that is it, Harding. He has sent or given them to her. She will be able to put the matter straight, however, when she comes in."
"I should have liked to let Mrs. Eustace know to-night, but it is too late now," Harding remarked. "It's long after midnight."
"Go over directly after breakfast in the morning. I'll see to the office until you return. It will be necessary to wire to the general manager about Durham's suggestion, but we must have her opinion first."
"I suppose she has heard about Mr. Dudgeon," Harding said. "It's a bad business all through."
"There is his will, Harding; don't forget that. Not many people would be inclined to call that a bad business if they were in Mrs. Eustace's place."
It was the one grain of comfort Harding felt he was carrying with him when, on the following morning, he walked through the town to Smart's cottage.
Already the news of the Rider's end was common property. When Mrs. Eustace came to him in the little sitting-room, it was of that she spoke.