"Where is Dawson now?" asked Bill.
"Calford. Guess he'll wait right there for uncle."
Suddenly a look of relief passed across the man's face.
"This is Wednesday. At six o'clock the mail-cart goes back to town. Send some one down to the saloon at once, and John will be able to go in to-night."
As Bill spoke his eyes encountered a direct and steady glance from the girl. There was much meaning in that mute exchange. For answer Jacky rose and rang a bell sharply.
"Send a hand down to the settlement to find my uncle. Ask him to come up at once. There is an important letter awaiting him," she said, to the old servant who answered the summons.
"Bill, what's up?" she went on, when the retainer had departed.
"Lots. Look here, Jacky, we mustn't be long over tea. We must both be out of the house when your uncle returns. He may not want to go into town to-night. Anyway, I don't want to give him the chance of asking any questions until we have had a long talk. He's losing to Lablache again."
"Ah! I don't want anything to eat. Whenever you are ready, Bill, I am."
Bunning-Ford drank his tea and rose from the table. The girl followed his example.