"No. That's true."
"And you can't blame me for being angry at the trick you played me——"
"I was desperate. I've been desperate since I saw him in New York. Sometimes I've been a bit queer, I reckon—thinkin' about Peggy hearin' this. I wanted to kill him. It was a good chance last night. Nobody would have blamed me, after his being around the place. It was an easy shot—but my hand wasn't steady——"
"Pity you didn't know that before you put me in danger."
"I'm sorry, Nichols—sorry. I'll do anything you like. What do you want me to do?"
Instead of replying at once Peter took out a cigarette and lighted it carefully. And then,
"You've never taken the trouble to make any inquiries as to the whereabouts of the family of Ben Cameron?" he asked.
The old man shook his head.
"Why not?"