Page:Frank Owen - The Actress.djvu/44

32 Valley; the insects, the poisonous snakes, the heat and fear.

"And this fellow Warburton," he finished slowly, "is the same man whom we went in search of, up into the Rana Country over a year ago, the miserable, drunken wreck of a beast whom we found married to the native woman. Don't you realize, old man, what a disgrace it would be to Liane Warburton if the truth ever became known? No other white men must ever find Warburton save you and I. I couldn't go back to Olga if I left this task unfinished. Maybe some day I will return, and she will be still waiting. Who knows but that at last I will find the happiness I have longed for all my life."

"Yes," said Jerold Wharton wistfully, "who knows?"