"
"This man--who is he?" asked Sheba, almost in a whisper. She was
trembling with excitement and nervousness.
Macdonald drew back the cloth and showed the rough, hard face of a
workingman.
"His name was Trelawney. I kicked him out of our camps because he was a
trouble-maker."
"He was one of the men that robbed you later!" she exclaimed.
"Yes. And now he has tried to rob me again and has paid for it with his
life."
Her mind flashed back over the past. "Then his partner in this last
crime must have been the same man--what's his name?--that was with him
last time."
"Northrup." He nodded slowly. "I hate to believe it, but it is probably
true. And he, too, is lying somewhere in this park covered with snow--if
our guess is right."
"And Gordon--you admit he didn't do it?"
Again he nodded, sulkily. "No. He didn't do it."
Joy lilted in her voice. "So you've brought me here to tell me. Oh, I am
glad, my friend, that you were so good. And it is like you to do it. You
have always been the good friend to me."
The Scotchman smiled, a little wistfully. "You take a mean advantage
of a man. You nurse him when he is ill--and are kind to him when he
is well--and try to love him, though he is twice your age and more.
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