“She was sent to Egg Island with every one aboard. She has been there more than a month now and may not get away this summer.”
“What a disappointment for the poor devils on her!”
“Yes, and only for what you did, I should be one of them,” Helen remarked.
“I didn’t do much,” he said. “The fighting part is easy. It’s not half so hard as to give up your property and lie still while—”
“Did you do that because I asked you to—because I asked you to put aside the old ways?” A wave of compassion swept over her.
“Certainly,” he answered. “It didn’t come easy, but—”
“Oh, I thank you,” said she. “I know it is all for the best. Uncle Arthur wouldn’t do anything wrong, and Mr. McNamara is an honorable man.”
He turned towards her to speak, but refrained. He could not tell her what he felt certain of. She believed in her own blood and in her uncle’s friends—and it was not for him to speak of McNamara. The rules of the game sealed his lips.
She was thinking again, “If only you had not acted as you did.” She longed to help him now in his trouble as he had helped her, but what could she do? The law was such a confusing, intricate, perplexing thing.
“I spent last night at the Midas,” she told him, “and rode back early this morning. That was a daring hold-up, wasn’t it?”