“Mr. Jernyngham,” said the officer, “if you will make an appointment to meet me on my return from the reservation, I will be at your service, but you must excuse me now. I have some instructions to give the constable, who has a long ride before him.”
“A minute, please; I’ll be brief. Am I to understand that you have no intention of seizing Prescott?”
“That is what I meant. So far as I can determine at present, we shall not interfere with him.”
Jernyngham’s haggard face grew red with anger.
“What are your grounds for this extraordinary decision?” he demanded.
“A strong presumption of his innocence.”
“Preposterous!” Jernyngham broke out. “The scoundrel killed my son, and you refuse to move any further against him! I must carry the matter to Ottawa; you leave me no recourse.”
The officer rapped on the table and the trooper entered.
“Come and see me when I get back, Mr. Jernyngham, and we’ll talk over the thing again. I have other business which demands urgent attention now.”
Jernyngham’s face was deeply colored and the swollen veins showed on his forehead.