"It is perfectly plain what the meaning of it is," answered Anderton with conviction. "Whoever did this was blending two handwritings for some purpose or other, and the purpose is not difficult to guess."
"That is what I felt when I saw it, and when the significance of it dawned on me, I set out to find Ainley that I might ask him the meaning of it. He had left England, and no one whom I could ask knew his whereabouts. Things were very difficult for me at home and so I came out here, stumbled on Ainley—and you know the rest."
Helen Yardely had listened to the talk of the two men without speaking, but now she broke in. "I do not wonder Gerald Ainley did not keep his promise to see you at Fort Malsun. I only wonder that when he arranged for your deportation, as he surely did, he did not arrange for your death."
"He does not know I have this paper," answered Stane with a grateful look towards her. "But when I do meet him——"
He did not finish the sentence, and after a moment the girl announced that the meal was ready. As they ate, Anderton glanced from time to time at the man whom he had known as a careless youth at Oxford. He noted the hardness of the eyes, the greying hair, the deep lines of the face, and was moved to a sudden burst of indignation.
"Confound the man, Stane! If I were in your place I should be tempted to shoot him! But that's too good for him."
"I will do that which will be worse for him," answered Stane quietly, "I will make him own up."
The two who heard him, looking at his resolute face, had no doubt that he would keep his word, and as each reflected what he must have been through, neither was sorry for Gerald Ainley or had any compunction at the thought of what might happen to him.
The meal was finished without any further reference to the past, and after a smoke, Anderton threw on his furs and went outside. Presently he returned and announced his intention of going up the lake to the Indian encampment.
"The weather is going to hold, and it really is of the utmost importance for me to find out whether my man is here or not. I'm not in the best form after my accident this morning, but there's nothing else for it, and if the fellow has left, I shall have to follow at his heels, and wear him down. It is the only way. Duty is duty in my force, I can assure you."