Pritchard," I interposed, "I'll take all the responsibility for Mr.
Hooper."
"An' _you_'ll apologise all round," said Pyecroft. "You're a rude little
man, Pritch."
"But how was I----" he began, wavering.
"I don't know an' I don't care. Apologise!"
The giant looked round bewildered and took our little hands into his vast
grip, one by one. "I was wrong," he said meekly as a sheep. "My suspicions
was unfounded. Mr. Hooper, I apologise."
"You did quite right to look out for your own end o' the line," said
Hooper. "I'd ha' done the same with a gentleman I didn't know, you see. If
you don't mind I'd like to hear a little more o' your Mr. Vickery. It's
safe with me, you see."
"Why did Vickery run," I began, but Pyecroft's smile made me turn my
question to "Who was she?"
"She kep' a little hotel at Hauraki--near Auckland," said Pyecroft.
"By Gawd!" roared Pritchard, slapping his hand on his leg. "Not Mrs.
Bathurst!"
Pyecroft nodded slowly, and the Sergeant called all the powers of darkness
to witness his bewilderment.
"So far as I could get at it Mrs. B. was the lady in question."
"But Click was married," cried Pritchard.
"An' 'ad a fifteen year old daughter. 'E's shown me her photograph.
Settin' that aside, so to say, 'ave you ever found these little things
make much difference? Because I haven't."
"Good Lord Alive an' Watchin'!... Mrs. Bathurst...." Then with another
roar: "You can say what you please, Pye, but you don't make me believe it
was any of 'er fault.
Pages:
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333