Peter rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"Queer, isn't it? I don't wonder that you were alarmed—especially for Beth, knowing the kind of man he was."
"It's terrible, Mr. Nichols. A man like Ben Cameron never gets made over. He's bad clear through. If you only knew——" Mrs. Bergen's pale eyes seemed to be looking back into the past. "He means no good to Beth—that's what frightens me. He could take her away from me. She's his daughter——"
"Well—don't worry," said Peter at last. "We'll find a way to protect you." And then, "Of course you didn't take that message to McGuire?" he asked.
"Why, no—Mr. Nichols. I couldn't. I'd 'a' died first. But what does it all mean? Him bein' scared of Ben Cameron, too. I can't make it out—though I've thought and thought until I couldn't think no more."
She was on the point of tears now, so Peter soothed her gently.
"Leave this to me, Mrs. Bergen." And then, "You haven't said anything of this to any one?"
"Not a soul—I—I was hopin' it might 'a' been just a dream."
Peter was silent for a moment, gazing out of the window and thinking deeply.
"No. It wasn't a dream," he said quietly at last. "You saw a man by the kitchen door, and he gave you the message about Ben Cameron, but the man you saw wasn't Ben Cameron, Mrs. Bergen, because, unless I'm very much mistaken, Ben Cameron is dead——"