“Well,” said Jim, looking at his watch, “by starting now I can catch the early train to Chicago. Be careful, West; there's no hurry. I'll wire you in the morning if there is anything important. Miss Porter, may I ask you to see that the steward takes care of Mr. West? I'll send a doctor out. I'm sorry to trouble you—there's no one else.”
Katherine inclined her head. And then she realized that Harvey and she were alone.
“Won't you draw up a chair?” said Harvey. “I want to talk to you. I'm glad you're here. It's an awful bore to be alone when you're this way.”
His attempt at an easy manner gave Katherine a sense of relief. She sat beside him.
“I'm sorry you are hurt. How did it happen?”
“I think I fell off a fence. Wonder if I lost my handkerchief?” He thrust his hand into his pocket, and drew out a revolver, clasping it by the barrel. “That's funny. I don't remember—oh, yes.” He stuffed it back into his pocket.
“What is it? Tell me about it.”
Harvey looked thoughtfully at her. It occurred to him that to let her know of McNally's actions, which presumably were instigated by Porter himself, would be bringing matters too close home.
“No,” he replied, “it's rather a disagreeable story. If you were a good nurse you would try to make me forget it. I'm glad you are here—very glad. How did you happen to come?”
“I often drive out. It is growing dark. I must think about getting back.”