Keith smiled as he sat down opposite the man who would have sent him to
the executioner had he known the truth. After all, it was but a step
from comedy to tragedy. And just now he was conscious of a bit of
grisly humor in the situation.
VIII
The storm had settled into a steady drizzle when McDowell left the
Shack at two o'clock. Keith watched the iron man, as his tall, gray
figure faded away into the mist down the slope, with a curious
undercurrent of emotion. Before the inspector had come up as his guest
he had, he thought, definitely decided his future action. He would go
west on his furlough, write McDowell that he had decided not to
reenlist, and bury himself in the British Columbia mountains before an
answer could get back to him, leaving the impression that he was going
on to Australia or Japan. He was not so sure of himself now. He found
himself looking ahead to the night, when he would see Miriam Kirkstone,
and he no longer feared Shan Tung as he had feared him a few hours
before. McDowell himself had given him new weapons. He was unofficially
on Shan Tung's trail. McDowell had frankly placed the affair of Miriam
Kirkstone in his hands. That it all had in some mysterious way
something to do with himself--John Keith--urged him on to the adventure.
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