Sitting down on a log, he began to read from his letter:
"'A man named Clarke, whom you have evidently met, lately called on me and suggested an explanation of the Indian affair. As the price of his keeping silence on the subject, he demanded that I should take a number of shares in a syndicate he is forming for the exploitation of some petroleum wells.'"
"It was a good offer," Harding interrupted. "Clarke must have had reason for believing he was about to make a big strike; he'd have kept quiet until he was sure of it."
"'The fellow's story was plausible,'" Blake continued reading. "'It seems possible that you have been badly wronged; and I have been troubled——'" He omitted the next few lines, and went on: "'After giving the matter careful thought, I feel that the man may have hit upon the truth. It would, of course, afford me the keenest satisfaction to see you cleared, but the thing must be thoroughly sifted, because——'"
Blake stopped and added quietly:
"He insists on my going home."
"His difficulty is obvious," Benson remarked. "If you are blameless, his son must be guilty."
Blake did not answer, but sat musing with a disturbed expression. There was now no sign of the men with the bob-sled, and no sound reached them from the plain above. Emile stood patiently waiting some distance off, and though they were sheltered from the wind it was bitterly cold.
"In some ways, it might be better if I went home at once," Blake said at last. "I could come back and join you as soon as I saw how things were going. The Colonel would feel easier if I were with him; but, all the same, I'm inclined to stay away."
"Why?" Harding asked.