Philip wondered if the other could hear the pounding of his heart.
He had discovered in this moment what the Department had been
trying to learn for two years. It was this man--Blake--who was
the mysterious white leader of the Kogmollocks, and responsible
for the growing criminal record of the natives along Coronation
Gulf. And he had just confessed himself the murderer of Olaf
Anderson! His finger trembled for an instant against the trigger
of his revolver. Then, staring into Blake's face, he slowly
lowered the weapon until it hung at his side. Blake's eyes gleamed
as he saw what he thought was his triumph.
"IT'S your one chance," he urged. "And there ain't no time to
lose."
Philip had judged his man, and now he prayed for the precious
minutes in which to play out his game. The Kogmollocks who had
taken up their trail could not be far from the cabin now.
"Maybe you're right, Blake," he said hesitatingly. "I think, after
her experience with Bram Johnson that she is about willing to
return to her father.
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