"Michael's dead!" Meg stood still and dropped her brother's arm. It was a pitiful face, that paled to the lips as her eyes gazed into Freddy's.
"No, Meg, Mike's not dead."
"Then he's dying, and you're afraid to tell me!" Margaret strode forward, as if she was then and there starting off to find her dying lover. Freddy laid his hand on her arm. "Freddy, let me go!" she said impatiently. "Take me to him quickly. Wild horses won't detain me!" She shook off his hand.
"Steady, old girl. Let me tell you all about it. Mike's quite well, so far as I know. I've heard nothing about any illness."
"Then what's the matter? More lies? Hadassah Ireton doesn't believe a word of them! She is an angel—she is going to help me." Meg's head dropped; her chest rose and fell with suppressed emotion.
"Don't walk so quickly, Meg. I can't tell you while you dash on like that. Have some pity on me—I hate my job."
Meg fell back. "Well, tell me—out with it!"
"The Government has got wind of the 'site.' Michael's discovery has been anticipated. Experimentary digging has begun."
"And where is Mike?" Meg's eyes blazed.
"That is just it! He ought to have reached the hills two weeks ago, at least. While he has been idling, someone has played him false—betrayed him—informed the Government for the sake of the reward."