Stonor indicated Clare. “She said it was Imbrie’s body. She was his wife.”
Etzooah stared stupidly at Clare.
Suddenly he started to rise.
Mary said: “He say he got go now.”
Stonor laid a heavy hand on the Indian’s shoulder. “Sit down! Not until this matter is explained. Perhaps the man did not kill himself. Perhaps he was murdered.”
Etzooah seemed beside himself with terror.
“Ask him what he’s afraid of?”
“He say he sick in his mind because his friend is dead.”
“Nonsense! This is not grief, but terror. Tell him I want the truth now. I asked as a friend at first: now I ask in the name of the law.”
Etzooah suddenly rolled away on the ground out of Stonor’s reach. Then, springing to his feet with incredible swiftness, he cut for the water’s edge. But Mary stuck out her leg in his path and he came to earth with a thud. Stonor secured him. Clare from where she sat looked up with startled eyes.