“Yes, one man! When I heard that Rolf Gargrave was dead, I wrote to England and informed his legal adviser, Sir Joseph Rayner, that Joy and I were husband and wife. I never had any answer to the let—— But what’s the matter, man? You look as if you had seen a ghost! What is it?”
There was a look of startled amazement on the corporal’s face. He was staring at his cousin as if what the latter had said was a revelation to him, as indeed it was. A dark suspicion had leapt in his mind, a suspicion that seemed almost incredible, but which persisted and would not be thrust aside. If Sir Joseph Rayner knew, then in all probability his son also knew, and yet having that knowledge he had suggested that the relation between himself and Joy was such as justified his confessed aspiration of making her his wife. Had he been responsible for that second shot at North Star? Or——
Dick Bracknell’s voice broke in again querulously.
“What’s got you, Roger! Spit it out!”
“I can’t at present,” replied the corporal slowly. “You’ve given me news that I must think over before I talk. But there is one thing that I can tell you, and that is that Rolf Gargrave did not die by a mere accident. The trail he was following was sound enough, but the ice was blown up by dynamite. It froze over again in the night, and as I gather there was a little snow, he went on to the thin ice without suspicion, and went through. That’s the story as I’ve recently heard it; and I’m on the trail of the man who plotted the infernal thing, now.”
The sick man pursed his lips to whistle, but no sound came from them. Then he remarked, with a little laugh of bitterness, “So that’s why you asked if I knew anything of my father-in-law’s death, is it?”
“It was just a suspicion that occurred to me,” explained the corporal apologetically. “When I heard the story I wondered who would benefit by Gargrave’s death, and as you had just married Joy, and had fled here from England, it was a natural suspicion——”
“I must have got pretty low down for it to be natural to suspect me of an infernal crime of that sort,” was the other’s bitter comment. “But who do you suspect now?”
“I don’t know! As I told you, I’m after the man. The trail’s a week old, but I’ll find him even if I follow him to the rim of the Polar sea.”
“I hope to heaven you’ll get him, and that he’ll swing at Regina for that job. I wonder if the same man had anything to do with poisoning the dog food.”