Gallwey nodded. "The same thing," he said, "has occurred to me all along. His attitude is comprehensible, and I have a certain sympathy with the folks at the head of the police. To attend to everything, they would want a brigade."
"Well," said Leland, drily, "I have no intention of getting my homestead burnt because it suits anybody's hand, and you'll start round to-morrow and get this petition signed by every responsible man. It's a plain statement of what we have been putting up with, and a delicate hint that there are folks among the Government's opposition who might find the information interesting in case the police bosses do nothing. I almost fancy that ought to put a move on them."
Gallwey smiled a little as he read the document, which, however, was worded with a tactfulness he had scarcely expected from his comrade. Leland's proceedings were, as a rule, rather summary and vigorous than characterised by any particular delicacy.
"I shall be away three or four days, at least," he said.
"Won't that be a little awkward? You are not very well just now."
Leland made a little impatient gesture. "I'll be all right again to-morrow."
His comrade did not contradict him, though he had some doubt upon the subject, and, sitting down, talked about other matters for several minutes, while, when he rose, he contrived to make Carrie understand it was desirable that she should find an excuse for going out soon after him. She did so, and came upon him waiting in the kitchen.
"He persists that there is nothing the matter with him, but I am a little anxious," she said. "You don't think he is looking well?"
Gallwey appeared thoughtful. "I scarcely fancy it is serious, but there is no doubt he has been worrying himself lately and doing a good deal too much. In fact, the strain is telling. Still, I dare say a little rest would do wonders. Couldn't you keep him in to-morrow?"
"Keep him in!" said Carrie, with a little expostulatory smile.