The mounted policeman was silent for a little time, then he remarked: "The implications of his story are rather serious for you, Ainley."
"Oh, I know it, don't I?"
"Then you admit——"
"I admit nothing! I reserve my defence—that's the proper legal thing to do, isn't it?"
"It is the wise thing, anyway," said Anderton.
"The wise thing," again the bitter mirthless laugh sounded. "When did I ever do the wise thing? I suppose I may consider myself under arrest."
"Detained on suspicion," admitted the policeman. "I think I must trouble you for your pistol and hunting-knife."
Once more Ainley laughed his bitter laugh, and unbuckling his belt threw it to the policeman. "It isn't often you arrest an old chum," he said.
"No!" agreed Anderton, "thank heaven! But you understand, Ainley, I've no option. If you were my own brother it would be the same. The oath of service is a very exacting one—'without fear or favour or affection of or toward any person. So help me God!' A man can't——"
"Oh, you needn't apologize, Anderton, I recognize the situation well enough. Don't mind if I lapse into silence do you? There are some letters I want to write."