Fyles was hooking his reins over the post Charlie had vacated.
“Mine?” he said. “Peter’s the quickest thing west of Winnipeg. He’ll sure give you a run when—the time comes.”
Charlie laughed. The drift of the talk, its hidden meaning, amused him.
“We’ll have to make a time, eh?”
“Sure,” said Fyles, looking him squarely in the eyes.
Charlie moved his horse away.
“Well, so long, for the present. Guess I’ll remember that challenge. Thanks for helping me with the rack. You’re stopping?”
Fyles nodded.
“Yes—for awhile.”
Charlie rode away with the air of a man with not a care in the world. But he was thinking swiftly, and his thoughts were of that hidden cupboard, and what it contained. Hope and fear struggled for paramount place in his heart. Was the secret of that hiding place sufficiently simple to defy Stanley Fyles, or was it not? Was he the man he was reputed to be, or was he merely a clever man backed by a big authority? In the end he abandoned the troublesome point. Time alone would give him his answer.