“And also,” said Gray still more dryly, “to mention that the partitions here are very thin and that I heard all of the conversation just now.”
Cunningham looked up with a start.
“I knocked on your door,” Gray added, smiling cryptically, “because I knew you wouldn’t open it. I was doing what I could to cement their confidence in you. Are you going to help them?”
“I guess I’ve got to try,” said Cunningham grimly. “But I wish I knew what to do.”
“Keep them from killing,” Gray told him with sudden sharpness. “And also, keep them out of jail. You’ve got to do it, Cunningham! There’ll be hell to pay in those hills if you don’t. These people are scared. That’s why they killed that man we saw on the train. And they will be worse scared of Vladimir. He hasn’t gone, and if I can read faces he’s planning devilment for them. I tell you there’ll be wholesale killings in the hills unless you go up there! Stay with them. Argue with them. Educate them if you must. But keep them from killing anybody!”
“And who,” asked Cunningham grimly, “is going to keep Vladimir from starting something?”
Gray spread out his hands. Then he said curtly, “Look here. I tell you nothing——”
“Just like most other people,” interpolated Cunningham none too cordially.
“——nothing,” went on Gray, ignoring the interruption, “but I can promise that you won’t get into trouble through trying to keep the peace.”
“You’re a detective?”