Latisan had extricated his hand, intending to hurry on about his affairs. But here was a person who seemed to be in a way to tell him something more definite about one who was baffling his wild anxiety to fathom her real identity. However, Latisan did not dare to ask questions. His own pride and the spirit of protecting her reasons for reticence, if she had any, fettered his tongue; he was ashamed to admit to this man, whom he had so recently hated, that the real character of a fiancée was a closed book.
“Honestly, she ought to have told you that she knew me,” complained Crowley. “It would have saved all that trouble between you and me.” He rubbed his ear reminiscently. “But perhaps she did,” he pursued, affecting to misinterpret the hardness which had come into Latisan’s face. “But how she could say anything against me, as far as she and I are concerned, I can’t understand.”
“She has not mentioned you to me,” returned Latisan, curtly.
“That’s queer, too,” said Crowley, wrinkling his brow, his demeanor adding to the young man’s conviction that the whole situation was decidedly queer. Once more the smoldering embers were showing red flames! “Mr. Latisan, get me right, now! I don’t propose to discuss the young lady, seeing what she is to you. But perhaps you’ll allow me to refer back to what you said to me, personally, in the tavern a little while ago. We can make that our own business, can’t we?”
Crowley accepted a stiff nod as his answer and went on. “You told me that you are going back to the drive because the young lady has insisted on your doing so. That right?”
“It is. But I fail to see how you can make it any part of your business and mine.”
“It happens to belong in my business.” He put his hand to his breast pocket as if to reassure himself. He proceeded with more confidence. “Are you afraid of the truth, Mr. Latisan—scared to meet it face to face in a showdown?”
“I’m in the habit of going after the truth, no matter where it hides itself.”
“Then I guess you’d better come along with me. I’ve got to the point where I’ve got to have the truth, too, or else fetch up in a crazy house.”
Crowley’s determination was set definitely on his mind’s single track. If a man had an urgent reason for doing a certain thing and the compelling reason were removed, he might naturally be expected to do something else, Crowley figured.