"This isn't the State Forest," said Darragh, smiling. Then his face grew grave: "How is Eve?" he asked.
"She's feeling better," replied Stormont. "I telephoned to Ghost Lake
Inn for the hotel physician. … I was afraid of pneumonia, Jim. Eve
had chills last night. … But Dr. Claybourn thinks she's all right. …
So I left her in care of your housekeeper."
"Mrs. Ray will look out for her. … You haven't told Eve who I am, have you?"
"No."
"I'll tell her myself to-night. I don't know how she'll take it when she learns I'm the heir to the mortal enemy of Mike Clinch."
"I don't know either," said Stormont.
There was a silence; the State Trooper looked down at the dogs:
"What are they, Jim?"
"Otter-hounds," said Darragh, "— a breed of my own. … But that's all they are capable of hunting, I guess," he added grimly.
Stormont's gaze questioned him.