The objectionable figure lurched forward. "Point out the spot you want it planted, Lal," he said truculently, "and down it goes."
Peckover found himself wishing that the abominable extremity had been planted in the Antipodes and had taken root or, for preference, withered away there. "Where?" he asked wearily.
"Where," Miss Leo echoed. "Why, on your carrying on with these Hemyock girls. Carnaby, dear," she made the appeal with a vicious look, not at her brother but at his intended victim, "you won't see me fooled?"
"But I tell you——" Peckover began, when she snapped him up.
"If you are good enough for other people, you are good enough for me. So no nonsense."
"Nonsense?" Carnaby roared. "I'll——"
Lalage thoughtfully turned to shut the door. "That's it," she whispered. "Frighten him a bit." For it seemed to her that the effect of the snapped fire-irons was wearing off. "Tell Mr. Gage," she said aloud, holding Carnaby in the moonlight with a glittering eye, "what happened to those three mounted police who went after you."
Owing either to the suddenness of the demand or the spell of his sister's masterful glare, the small mind which dominated the mass of muscle seemed paralysed. "Ah, yes," he responded stupidly. "Didn't they!"
Miss Leo for the moment seemed to justify her name; she looked like a lioness ready to spring, but withheld by considerations of expediency. "Go on," she whispered through her clenched teeth. "Carnaby!" she said more mildly and aloud. "The three who looked after you in the Bush."
But either the hero's recollection was hazy or invention was not his strong point. "Eh?" he said confusedly. "Yes. They—they followed me into the Bush."