I sent for him this morning, and
he's waiting at my quarters now. Suppose I ask him to step over here,
so that we can discuss it together."
Before he answered, Ranson hesitated, with his eyes on the ground. He
had no way of knowing whether Mary Cahill had told her father
anything of what he had said to her that morning. But if she had done
so, he did not want to meet Cahill in the presence of a third party
for the first time since he had learned the news.
"I'll tell you what I wish you would do," he said. "I wish you'd let
me see Cahill first, by myself. What I want to see him about has
nothing to do with the hold-up," he added. "It concerns only us two,
but I'd like to have it out of the way before we consult him as a
witness."
Carr rose doubtfully. "Why, certainly," he said; "I'll send him over,
and when you're ready for me step out on the porch and call. I'll be
sitting on my veranda. I hope you've had no quarrel with Cahill--I
mean I hope this personal matter is nothing that will prejudice him
against you."
Ranson smiled. "I hope not, too," he said. "No, we've not quarrelled-
-yet," he added.
Carr still lingered.
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