He decided to put the matter squarely before her, and when they took the car arranged to have her sit beside him in a seat across the aisle from the mother and son, and almost immediately began his explanation by saying, very significantly:
"I reckon the boy is right, Miss Morse. You had better take that three-o'clock train."
She faced him with instant appreciation of the change in his tone. "Why so?" she asked, fixing a clear and steady glance upon his face.
"It will be easier for him and better for—for all of us if you go. He wants to spare your mother from—"
She was quick to perceive his hesitation. "From what?" she asked. And as he did not at once reply she went on, firmly: "You might just as well tell me, Mr. Kelley. Fred's been up to some mischief. He's afraid, and you're afraid, we'll find out something to his disadvantage. Now tell me. Is it—is it—a woman?"
"No," said Kelley as decisively as he could. "So far as I know Fred's not tangled up that way."
Quick as a flash she took him up on his emphasized word. "In what way is he tangled up?"
Kelley, more and more amazed at her shrewdness and directness, decided to meet it with blunt candor. "Well, you see, it's like this. When he first came out here he struck a streak of hard luck and lost all he had. He was forced to go to work at anything he could get to earn money, and—you see, when a feller is down and out he's got to grab anything that offers—and so, when Dutch Pete took a liking to him and offered him a job, he just naturally had to take it."
"You mean he has been working at something we wouldn't like to know about?"
"That's the size of it."