"For one thing, if I were there, he might insist on taking some quite unnecessary course that would only cause trouble."
"I'm going to give you my opinion," said Harding curtly. "I take it that your uncle is a man who tries to do the square thing?"
Blake's face relaxed and his eyes twinkled.
"He's what you call white, and as obstinate as they're made. Convince him that a thing's right and he'll see it done, no matter how many people it makes uncomfortable. That's why I don't see my way to encourage him."
"Here's a man who's up against a point of honor; he has, I understand, a long, clean record, and now he's prepared to take a course that may cost him dear. Are you going to play a low-down game on him; to twist the truth so's to give him a chance for deceiving himself?"
"Aren't you and Benson taking what you mean by the truth too much for granted?"
Harding gave him a searching look.
"I haven't heard you deny it squarely; you're a poor liar. It's your clear duty to go back to England right away, and see your uncle through with the thing he means to do."
"After all, I'll go to England," Blake answered with significant reserve. "However, we'd better get on, or we won't catch the others until they've finished dinner."
Emile started the dogs, and when they had toiled up the ascent they saw the men with the bob-sled far ahead on the great white plain.