“Temagami—Toronto—home. Hustle, now!”
CONNORTON found the situation extremely bewildering. So did Paulson. They had understood Hartley to have rejected emphatically their proposition the night before; and now that incomprehensible person was doing precisely what they most wanted him to do.
For some time neither dared ask any questions, lest the least suggestion of surprise should lead him to change his mind: but curiosity finally overcame Connorton’s caution.
“What’s the reason for this?” he queried.
“For what?” returned Hartley.
“This change of plan.”
“There’s been no change of plan,” asserted Hartley. “I refused to sign the paper you showed me, but I didn’t say I wouldn’t go back with you. Might as well go back as to have you bothering around up here anyway. You’re too great a responsibility, Connorton; I feel that I must get you out of Joe’s reach. Any other proposition to make this morning?”
“No-o,” replied Connorton, doubtfully, “I think not.”
“Oh, very well,” acquiesced Hartley, cheerfully. “I guess I’ll let you go with Joe to-day.”
“No, no, no!” objected Connorton, in alarm; “I won’t go with that bloodthirsty savage.”