Bill looked hard at him. Glen's face was quivering. His mouth twitched. His eyes glared. He was thinking of the woman. How should he get the brandy if Bill persisted in refusing, for he meant having it at any cost?
"What's it for?"
"I can't tell you. I will before long, but not now."
"Then it's a fake. You want it for yourself."
"I do not."
He fancied he could hear her moaning, becoming restless, and if he got what he wanted and hurried back she might have a chance. It exasperated him.
"Why not tell me the reason?" asked Bill, fairly enough.
"There's somebody ill in my hut."
"Oh, that's it, one of your mates. Do you think I'm going to help him after last night's work? Not me."
Glen wanted to conceal that it was a woman, but he was wasting precious time. Could Bill be trusted to keep it to himself? He had no desire for the township to know until he had found out all about her.