CHAPTER XVIII 

THE HAND IN THE WATER 

Scott lying among the pine-needles after work had stopped, lighted his pipe and glanced at Thirlwell, who had been talking for some minutes. 

"On the whole, it was lucky the smith had an iron hot," he said. "Black Steve's a dangerous man and we know something about the _Metis_ temper. Drummond, of course, is hardly a _Metis_, but he has a drop of Indian blood that must be reckoned on. It's a remarkably virile strain." 

"I was rather glad they quarreled. I'd been afraid Driscoll might learn he knew something about the lode and persuade him to join the gang. I wouldn't trust him far." 

"You can trust his Indian instincts," Scott replied. "No doubt he's greedy, but he hates Stormont, and I imagine he'd sooner punish the fellow than find the silver." He paused, and looked thoughtful when he went on: "The other matter's difficult; but, like Father Lucien, I don't see what we can do. It's possible that Steve drowned his partner, or anyhow, took advantage of an accident to let him drown; but we're not detectives, and you can't move against a man without something besides suspicion to go upon. Then we were under the cracking beam when he fixed the prop that stopped the roof coming down." 

"I suppose, if he's guilty, that oughtn't to count?" 

"It's an awkward question," Scott replied. "However, we don't know if he is guilty, and I don't see much chance of our finding out. But there's something else. Miss Strange had the shock of hearing about her father's sudden death, and it would not be kind to harrow her again." 
what does scott trust about him?
"You can trust his Indian instincts," Scott replied.