fortably to himself, when he read over this report. He bit off a fresh cigar and, licking it unlit between his lips, he went to the window where he had stood in fear the night before, looking up the lake and thinking of "Galilee."
It was plain that his scheme had resulted well; accordingly he complimented his operative and instructed him to cease giving attention to Scott Street but for the present to keep an eye out for Loutrelle; and when the attorney Dougherty telephoned that morning for funds to pay the fine of Merrill Kincheloe—alias John Smith—Lucas sent the money.
"But I'd like to know what my granddaughter said to that—" Lucas mused, unnamably, to himself when his mind dwelt on the main matter in hand.
What Ethel had told Barney was brief and simple in its final statement, though it was the result of two hours' struggle with pen and paper, during which she wrote and destroyed many more elaborate attempts at explanation and farewell.
Dear Barney:
I have found that I must leave at once for my home. I must ask you to trust me and to believe that in going, I am acting not upon impulse but after the most serious thought I have ever given to any action. Some time later, I shall know how to explain what must seem madness to you. Now I can not. And will not make what I have to do harder by following me, will you?
Where you are and how you are and what you are doing remain with me the most important things in my life; so you must let me know all about yourself. My address will be Sheridan, Wyoming.
