“There, there! Cut it out, cut it out!” said Bruce gruffly, gripping the other’s hand.
“That’s always the way,” said Billy, resentfully. “Your only fault is that you are so infernally bull-headed that a fellow can’t even thank you.”
“You’re thanking me the right way when you keep yourself bolted fast to the water-cart. What I started out to tell you, what I want you to keep secret, is this: They put the wrong man in jail yesterday.”
“What!” ejaculated Billy, springing up.
“I tell you this much because I want you to keep your eye on the story. Hell’s likely to break loose there any time, and I want you to be ready to handle it in case I should have to be off the job.”
“Good God, old man!” Billy stared at him. “What’s behind all this? If Doctor West’s the wrong man, then who’s the right one?”
“I can’t tell you any more now.”
“But how did you find this out?”
“I said I couldn’t tell you any more.”