Chapter XV

The monotonous tick of the office clock in the strained silence set Bruce Harcourt’s taut nerves twanging like violin strings. He fought a pervading sense of dread. It was not the fact of Hale’s taking off. It had not been the first tragedy of the kind in his experience in this wilderness. Justice was slow. Some men wouldn’t wait for it, they administered it. But that Jimmy Chester should be drawn into the mess was unbearable. He was the only man in the outfit who wore a ring. Had love for Janice crazed him? No. Wh…