Mildred smiled frigidly. "Evidently you do not like him?"
"Nobody in Alaska likes him. Do you?"
"You see, I am not an Alaskan."
It occurred to Cherry that this girl was ignorant of the unexpected change in Boyd's affairs. She decided to sound her—to find out for herself the answer to those questions which Boyd had evaded. He had not spoken to Mildred of Marsh. Perhaps if she knew the truth, she would love him better, and even now her assistance would not be valueless.
"Do you know that Mr. Marsh is to blame for all of Boyd's misfortune?" she said.
"Boyd's?"
"Yes, Boyd's, of course. Oh, let us not pretend—I call him by his first name. I think you ought to know the truth about this business, even if Boyd is too chivalrous to tell you."
"Why do you think he has not told me?"
"I have just come from him."
"If Mr. Emerson blames any one but himself for his failure, I am sure he would have told me."