Hinds. "We've got Robison, but Ducane has disappeared."
The sudden exclamation was in Forsyth's voice. Dick walked to a chair in silence; dropped down, and pulled out a notebook.
"Tell me what you know," he said.
Forsyth looked at the cooling supper, sat down and filled a plate. Hinds said:
"Why, you know, I couldn't have touched Ducane in any case. But you told me to watch out, so I did the best I could. They must have got off in that storm sometime; but we didn't know they hadn't gone up the Lake until the tug came back from Rocky Island two days ago with only Robison and Mrs. Ducane aboard."
"Mrs. Ducane?" said Forsyth, glancing up.
"Exactly. A hand on the tug told me there'd been some sort of pow-wow with Indians in Quatre Fourches Channel, and it seems probable that Ducane slipped off there. Likely he has got them to take him up it to join the Peace, and he means to get out that way. Or he could get down the Slave to the Arctic."
"What about Robison?" interrupted Dick.
"I've made sure of him," said Hinds in broad content. "Arrested him on the Ogilvie business, and he didn't kick worth a cent. But I can't get a word about Ducane out of him—or out of Mrs. Ducane either." He paused a moment. "Ripping good luck I nailed Robison, wasn't it?" he said.
"Sure! It could only have been better if you hadn't."
"Why" Hinds went red. "What the deuce do you mean?" he said.
"We won't get information from Robison any more." Dick stood up. "He can't save himself from the gallows by betraying Ducane, and so he'll hold his tongue to spite us all. Can I go to your room and clean up, Forsyth?"
"You sure can. Where is Mrs. Ducane, Hinds?"
"At Lowndes', of course. I guess Robison was meaning to get back south on his own, but I don't know what she expected to happen to her. A very peculiar business altogether."
