He knew that when once the decision was made, there could only be peril in half-measures, and his eyes grew thoughtful as he read.

The letter had been written by a Winnipeg lawyer from a little town not very far away, and requested Courthorne to meet and confer with him respecting certain suggestions made by a Colonel Barrington.

Winston decided to take the risk.
"I'm sorry, but I have got to go into Annerly at once," he said.
"Then," said the officer, "I'll drive you.

I've some stores to get down there." They started after breakfast, but it was dusk next day when they reached the little town, and Winston walked quietly into a private room of the wooden hotel, where a middle-aged man with a shrewd face sat waiting him.

The big nickeled lamp flickered in the draughts that found their way in, and Winston was glad of it, though he was outwardly very collected.