"It's not one of my mates. I'd not ask it for him after that," and he waved his hand round. "You'll not say a word, but keep it dark?"
"It depends on what it is you tell me."
"I can't tell you. Bill, we've been what folks call friends, as far as it goes here. Promise me. It's a matter of life and death. You'll not be sorry. You'll have done a good action, and saved a life."
Bill saw he was in deadly earnest. He knew Glen Leigh had always gone straight with him.
"Out with it then. I'll promise, so help me I will, but I don't say I'll let you have what you want."
Glen saw he was yielding. Again his thoughts went back to his hut, and he groaned at the loss of time.
"It's for a woman. She's got fever, and is delirious. She'll die if she doesn't have some stimulant. For God's sake, Bill, let me have it."
Bill stared at him. There was a genuine, even pathetic ring in his voice. But a woman! He couldn't be expected to swallow that yarn.
"Where is she?" he asked.
"In my hut."