"I d'n
know."
"You don't know? What did you do with him last night, you drunken
fool?"--by this time the neighbours had come out to learn the news.
Peter gaped at her in astonishment, his muddled wits and aching head
beginning dimly to realize that something was wrong.
"Tom left here ... last night ... t'go home," he nodded emphatically.
"Well, he never got home," snapped Julie. "And you'd best get your
clothes on and help me find him. You were both as drunk as pigs, I
suppose. If he's lying dead in a ditch it's you that'll have the blame."
"Aw now, Julie!"
"Don't Julie me, you fool! Get dressed and do something."
"I'll come. You wait," and he went inside, and put his head into a basin
of water, and threw on his clothes, and came out presently looking
anxious and disturbed now that his sluggish brain had begun to work.
"Where you been looking?" he asked.
"Nowhere. I expected to find him here."
"We had a glass or two and then he started off home. He could walk all
right.... Did you.... You didn't see anything wrong ... anything ... at
the Coupee?" he asked, with a quick anxious look at her.
Pages:
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167