“All of which is sound sense,” he said seriously, “and is leading us toward controversial—er—subjects. Eh?”
Kate raised a pair of shoulders with pretended indifference. But her eyes were smiling that challenge which Stanley Fyles always associated with her.
“Not a bad thing when the police are getting so very busy, and—you are their chief in the district,” she said.
“I must once more remark, you are well informed,” smiled Fyles.
“And I must once more remark not as well informed as I could wish,” retorted Kate quickly.
Fyles had permitted his gaze to wander down the wooded course of the river. Kate was watching him closely, speculatively. And curious enough she was thinking more of the man than his work at that moment.
The man’s eyes came back abruptly to her face, and her expression was instantly changed to one of smiling irony.
“Well?” she demanded.
Fyles shook his head.
“It isn’t,” he said. “May I ask how you know we are—so very busy?”