He raised his head. After all she was the comforter. “You make me ashamed,” he said. “Of course we can face it!”
“Perhaps I can help you. I must try to remember now. We must work at it like a problem that does not concern us especially.”
“Have you the diary?” he asked suddenly. “That’s essential now.”
“Did I have it?”
“In the side pocket of your coat.”
“It’s not there now. It’s not among my things. I haven’t seen it since—I came to myself.”
He concealed his disappointment. “Oh, well, if it was left in the shack it will be safe there. I’m sure no Indian would go within fifty miles of the spot now.”
“Have you any idea who the dead man could have been?”
“Not the slightest. It’s a black mystery.”