Hector's face crimsoned with passion.
"It's a lie!" he rapped fiercely. And he told the Inspector everything.
"I see!" said Denton thoughtfully. "I see! Well, we must kill this lie—er—immediately, Adair. It's done you a lot of harm—shaken people's confidence in you—er—considerably, very considerably. Even I was—er—-a bit affected. Now let's see. How can we kill it, eh? How can we kill it?"
"I'll kill it, sir!" said Hector decidedly. "I'll kill it, all right!"
"Right you are, Adair! Good example, eh? Even stricter attention to duty—if that were possible—eh? But no violence. Anyway, that's all about it, s'far as I'm concerned. Damn' glad it wasn't true, Adair. Er—settle it quietly, eh? Damn' glad, Adair. Close the door, er—will you, when you go out?"
So this was the cause of the change in feeling! Obviously, it was the work of Randall or Welland, who must at least have started the rumour, whatever their part in its subsequent growth may have been! The story must be killed, the Inspector had said. Well, he would kill it, there and then!
Conscious of his innocence, Hector, for the first time since joining the Police, lost that crowning attribute, self-control.
On fire to avenge his honour, he left the Inspector's and went rapidly over to Weatherton's.
V
The door of the store was dashed open. Fifty startled men, settlers, constables, Indians and half-breeds, turned together towards it, leaving a lane to the counter.