“Happy!” cried Conacher bitterly. “I never should have left her!”
“But you had to leave her.”
“Oh hell, what does the government matter in a case like this. . . . Wait a minute. I must try to think this out. How far can you trust this gossip?”
“Well I’m bound to say this is more than common gossip,” admitted Jordan. “It was Joe Moale, the man closest to Gault, who told the fellows he had heard Gault swear that he would marry the girl. . . . But she won’t have him, of course. No doubt everything will be all right.”
“Oh, God! don’t try to smooth things down!” cried Conacher. “She is completely in his power. The only Indian who could speak English was murdered . . . Of course she’ll reject him! And then what? Then what? Oh, my God! think of the girl being left in the power of the man she had turned down! . . . I never should have left her. But how could I stay with all you waiting for me? . . . Well, it’s different now. I’ve done the bit of work that was entrusted to me. I can put all the data in your hands. After this they can get along without me if they have to. . . .”
“My God! Paul, what are you talking about?”
“I’m going back,” said Conacher quietly.
“You can’t go back! Think of the row that would be kicked up!”
“I’ll have to face it.”
“You’ll lose your job. Where will you get another?”