“Why not?”
“It’s just gossip. We’ve got our work to do.”
“Do you put me or our work first?” demanded Conacher.
“Well, since you put it that way, you!” said Jordan.
“Then tell me.”
“But what can you do, now?”
“Never mind. You tell me, and I’ll make up my mind what I can do. I’m a grown man.”
“Well,” said Jordan, “when you told me that Gault had come to the aid of Blackburn’s daughter I couldn’t help but think it was like the wolf coming to save the lamb.”
“Yes, I know,” said Conacher impatiently, “something of that sort occurred to me, but hang it all! no white man could be blackguard enough to take advantage of a young girl in that situation!”
Jordan smiled affectionately at his friend. “You’re young, my son,” he murmured. “I don’t know as I would put it by Gault. . . . I suppose you’ve never heard the full story of Blackburn and Gault?”