And at this, Mason, irritated beyond measure, finally exclaiming:
“Oh, very well, then.
So you’ve finally decided not to talk, have you?”
And Clyde, blue and weak, replied:
“I had nothing to do with her death.
That’s all I can say now,” and yet even as he said it thinking that perhaps he had better not say that — that perhaps he had better say — well, what?
That he knew Roberta, of course, had been up there with her, for that matter — but that he had never intended to kill her — that her drowning was an accident.
For he had not struck her at all, except by accident, had he?
Only it was best not to confess to having struck her at all, wasn’t it?
For who under such circumstances would believe that he had struck her with a camera by accident.
Best not to mention the camera, since there was no mention anywhere in the papers that he had had one with him.
And he was still cogitating while Mason was exclaiming:
“Then you admit that you knew her?”
“No, sir.”
“Very well, then,” he now added, turning to the others, “I suppose there’s nothing for it but to take him back there and see what they know about him.
Perhaps that will get something out of this fine bird — to confront him with his friends.
His bag and things are still back there in one of those tents, I believe.
Suppose we take him down there, gentlemen, and see what these other people know about him.”
And now, swiftly and coldly he turned, while Clyde, already shrinking at the horror of what was coming, exclaimed:
“Oh, please, no!
You don’t mean to do that, do you?
Oh, you won’t do that!
Oh, please, no!”
And at this point Kraut speaking up and saying: “He asked me back there in the woods if I wouldn’t ask you not to take him in there.”
“Oh, so that’s the way the wind blows, is it?” exclaimed Mason at this.
“Too thin-skinned to be shown up before ladies and gentlemen of the Twelfth Lake colony, but not even willing to admit that you knew the poor little working-girl who worked for you.
Very good.
Well, then, my fine friend, suppose you come through with what you really do know now, or down there you go.”
And he paused a moment to see what effect that would have.
“We’ll call all those people together and explain just how things are, and then see if you will be willing to stand there and deny everything!”
But noting still a touch of hesitation in Clyde he now added: “Bring him along, boys.”
And turning toward the camp he proceeded to walk in that direction a few paces while Kraut taking one arm, and Swenk another, and beginning to move Clyde he ended by exclaiming:
“Oh, please, no!
Oh, I hope you won’t do anything like that, will you, Mr. Mason?
Oh, I don’t want to go back there if you don’t mind.
It isn’t that I’m guilty, but you can get all my things without my going back there. And besides it will mean so much to me just now.”
Beads of perspiration once more burst forth on his pale face and hands and he was deadly cold.
“Don’t want to go, eh?” exclaimed Mason, pausing as he heard this.
“It would hurt your pride, would it, to have ’em know?
Well, then, supposing you just answer some of the things I want to know — and come clean and quick, or off we go — and that without one more moment’s delay!
Now, will you answer or won’t you?”
And again he turned to confront Clyde, who, with lips trembling and eyes confused and wavering, nervously and emphatically announced:
“Of course I knew her.
Of course I did.
Sure!
Those letters show that.
But what of it?
I didn’t kill her.
And I didn’t go up there with her with any intention of killing her, either.
I didn’t.