“I don’t care—I don’t care where you did look and where you didn’t look!” he burst out as I stepped from the canoe. “You didn’t find the yacht, and you’ve got me into this, and I can’t stand it much longer; that’s all.”
He swung away and I followed and caught his arm savagely.
“If you would think of Miss Baldwin a little you might forget your nerves,” I whispered.
I found myself repeating Wilson’s words—
“These things aren’t so bad for men, but there’s the girl.”
“I know, I know, Gardy,” he replied hoarsely. “I—I can’t help it. Don’t throw me down, Gardy; don’t ball me out. I’m shaky. I can’t help anything else. You’ve got to get me to that yacht where my dope is, or—or you’ve got to get me back to Doc’ Olson.”
“What!”
“You have. I can’t stand it much longer.” His voice was raised, regardless of Betty. “I won’t, you hear? I won’t stand it any longer.”
He turned and rushed back to Betty, holding out his hands.
“You know how I feel, don’t you Betty? You understand, don’t you?”