"Hell," he said, after a time, "I'm sure a triple-plated boxhead, an'
no mistake!"
CHAPTER VI
SANDERSON LIES
Sanderson did not sleep. He sat at the window all afternoon, dismally
trying to devise way of escape from the dilemma. He did not succeed.
He had gone too far now to make a confession sound reasonably
convincing; and he could not desert the girl to Dale. That was not to
be thought of. And he was certain that if he admitted the deception,
the girl would banish him as though he were a pestilence.
He was hopelessly entangled. And yet, continuing to ponder the
situation, he saw that he need not completely yield to pessimism. For
though circumstances--and his own lack of foresight--had placed him in
a contemptible position--he need not act the blackguard. On the
contrary, he could admirably assume the role of protector.
The position would not be without its difficulties, and the deception
meant that he could never be to Mary Bransford what he wanted to be to
her; but he could at least save the Double A for her.
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