"Yes, in his own name, Dorland W. Foyle. Didn't he go by that
name when you saw him?"
There was an oppressive silence, in which she saw that something moved
him strangely, and then he answered: "No, he was going by the name of
Halbeck--Hiram Halbeck."
The girl gasped. Then the whole thing burst upon her. "Hiram Halbeck!
Hiram Halbeck, the thief--I read it all in the papers--the thief that you
caught, and that got away. And you've left the Mounted Police because of
it--oh, Nett!" Her eyes were full of tears, her face was drawn and grey.
He nodded. "I didn't know who he was till I arrested him," he said.
"Then, afterward, I thought of his child, and let him get away; and for
my poor old mother's sake. She never knew how bad he was even as a boy.
But I remember how he used to steal and drink the brandy from her
bedside, when she had the fever. She never knew the worst of him. But I
let him away in the night, Jo, and I resigned, and they thought that
Halbeck had beaten me, had escaped. Of course I couldn't stay in the
Force, having done that. But, by the heaven above us, if I had him here
now, I'd do the thing--do it, so help me God!"
"Why should you ruin your life for him?" she said, with an outburst of
indignation.
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