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Updated: June 5, 2025
When, much later, Dick was able calmly to review that day, he found his recollection of it confused by the events that followed, but one thing stood out as clearly as his later knowledge of the almost incredible fact that for one entire day and for the evening of another, he had openly appeared in Norada and had not been recognized.
Far away horsemen were riding along it, one behind the other, small dots that moved on slowly but steadily. He turned and went back to the cabin. "We'd better be moving," he said, "and it's up to you to say where. You've got two choices. You can go back to Norada and run the chance of arrest. You know what that means.
On the afternoon of the second day he left the train and took a branch line toward the mountains and Norada, and from that time on he became an urbane, interested and generally cigar-smoking interrogation point. "Railroad been here long?" he asked the conductor. "Four years." "Norada must have been pretty isolated before that." "Thirty miles in a coach or a Ford car."
He wrote Elizabeth the night he got there, and wired her at the same time. There's been nothing since." David was gripping the arms of his chair with both hands, but he forced himself to calmness. "I'll go to Norada at once," he said. "Get a time-table, Harrison, and ring for the valet." "Not on your life you won't. I'm here to do that, when I've got something to go on.
Clearly Livingstone had not known him. How, then, had he known that he was in Norada? And when he recognized him, as he would in a moment, what then? He put on his collar and tied his tie slowly. Gregory might be the key. Gregory might have found out that he had started for Norada and warned him. Then, if that were true, this man was Clark after all. But if he were Clark he wouldn't be there.
"On the other hand, why shouldn't I go back to Norada?" he asked, with an affectation of lightness. Then he put his hand on her shoulders. "Why shouldn't I go back and clear things up in my own mind? Why shouldn't I find out, for instance, that I am a free man?" "You are free." "I've got to know," he said, almost doggedly. "I can't take a chance. I believe I am. I believe David, of course.
And, as the extent of the disaster developed, as he saw David failing and Lucy ageing, and when in time he met Elizabeth, the feeling of his own guilt was intensified. He spent hours studying the case, and he was chiefly instrumental in sending Harrison Miller back to Norada in September.
"Yes," Dick acknowledged gravely. "It is sheer evasion." "What about the police?" he inquired after a silence. "I was registered at Norada. I suppose they traced me?" "Yes. The house was watched for a while; I understand they've given it up now." In response to questions about his own condition David was almost querulous. He was all right.
Dick stood with the letter in his hand, staring at it. Who was Bassett? Who was "G"? What had the departure of whoever Bassett might be for Norada to do with David? And who was the person who was to be got out of town? He did not go upstairs.
You know you've been wanting to." She dropped the brush, and he stooped to pick it up. That gave her a moment. "'Where?" she managed. "To Dry River, by way of Norada." "Why should you go back there?" she asked, in a carefully suppressed voice. "Why don't you go East? You've wanted to go back to Johns Hopkins for months?"
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