“What in thunder!” Maclin now recoiled. “Who then?”
“I gave it to Larry.”
“How the devil could Larry pay you for it?”
“Larry gave me no money.”
“Do you expect me to believe this, Mrs. Rivers?” The fat now resumed its flaccid lines.
“It doesn’t interest me in the least, Mr. Maclin, whether you do or not.”
Then Mary-Clare rose, rather weakly, and turned toward the bridge.
And there stood Maclin alone! Like all people who have 226 much that they fear to have known, Maclin considered now how much Larry really knew? Did he know what the Point meant? Had he ever opened letters? This brought the sweat out on Maclin.
Had he copied letters with that devilish trick of his? Could he sell the Point to––to–––?
Maclin could bear no longer his unanswered questions. He went back to the mines and was not seen in King’s Forest for many a day.