He could bear it little, if any, longer.

Every hour the dear face of the Angel wavered before him, and behind it the awful distorted image of Black Jack, as he had sworn to the punishment he would mete out to her.

He must either see McLean, or else make a trip to town and find her father.

Which should he do?
He was almost a stranger, so the Angel's father might not be impressed with what he said as he would if McLean went to him.

Then he remembered that McLean had said he would come that morning.