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Updated: June 27, 2025
"I was not sure which it was," said Iredale dryly; "whether you were a fool or a madman. Now I know. I had hoped that it was madness. There is hope for a madman, but none for a fool. Thank you, Grey, for the information you have supplied me with. Your folly has defeated your ends. Remember this. You will never be able to use the 'Secret' as you are pleased to call it of Lonely Ranch.
When George Iredale set out for Loon Dyke the valley was shrouded in the gloom of coming storm. But he knew the peculiarities of the climate too well to be alarmed. The storm, he judged, would not break until nearly sundown, and then it would only be short and sharp. In the meantime he would have reached the farm. There was a curious, unconscious rapidity in his way of settling up his affairs.
Iredale noted these things without moving his eyes from her face. "Hervey told me the facts and the inevitable proof they bore. Nor was his statement exaggerated. My own reason told me that." The man sighed. He had hoped that the work had been only of the brother's doings. He had hoped that she had come bearing Hervey's accusation and not her own. "Go on," he said.
"Yes, the murderer of Grey lies confessed," said Iredale quietly, "and I think that his motives were even stronger than those attributed to " Prudence placed a hand over his mouth before he could complete his sentence. They were startled from their horrified contemplation of the work of those last few moments by the sound of Hephzibah's voice calling from her bedroom.
His absence was only when his business took him elsewhere. And what was the meaning of it all? What was he to her that her friend should talk of "poaching" when regarding her own intercourse with this man? Prudence's face grew hotter. The awakening had come. At that moment she knew that George Iredale was a good deal to her, and she felt a certain maidenly shame at the discovery.
"Is there any need of explanation?" he asked, when his forced hilarity had abruptly terminated. "The only thing which puzzles me is that you've kept it up so long without being discovered." There was a long pause. Then Iredale removed his pipe from his mouth, knocked it out upon the heel of his boot, and returned it to his pocket. Then he rose from his seat and stood squarely before the other.
Sarah spoke without turning from the window. "The storm's banking, child. The lightning is already flashing over Owl Hoot way. Hervey will only just escape it." "What did he want to go over to the ranch for?" asked Prudence. "He never seems to go anywhere else now. I should think Mr. Iredale will get sick of having him always round."
It is only your generosity and kindness which make you look at the matter so lightly. You would regret your decision later on, and then No, mother and I will see the matter through. We have already secured the services of the smartest detective in Winnipeg, and he is working upon the only clue we possess." "But I insist," said Iredale, with a smile which made his plain features almost handsome.
He sealed the letter, and then returned his account-books to their hiding-place behind the bookcase. Then he went to the door and summoned his head man. In spite of the habit of years, Iredale was not without a strong sense of relief as he reviewed the progress of the disestablishment of the ranch.
Robb, unharmed by Hervey's shot, came forward, and Sarah and Prudence followed in his wake. But Iredale waved the ladies back. "Stand away, please," he said quietly. "The dog had finished him before I got my shot in to save him. The brute has literally torn his throat out." Then he looked over at the dead hound. "It's awful; I wonder what made the dog turn upon him?"
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