He smiled. "Just investigating. And who are you, lady? Maybe you're trespassing." His smile was half good humor, half contempt. "You're working for Rose Fulton, aren't you?" I asked. The smile was gone instantly. He didn't seem to move or breathe. I had the impression that a very good mind behind that flat, tough face was working rapidly. "I'm afraid I don't know the name," he said. But he had waited too long. "Who are you, friend?" "We're going to report this to the police," Ruth said. "Go ahead, lady. Be a good citizen. Give them the word." "Come on, Tal," she said. We went back up the trail. When we got into the car I looked back and saw him standing by his car, watching us. He didn't take his eyes off us while he lit a cigarette and shook the match out. Ruth was oddly silent as I drove back toward the Stamm camp. Finally I said, "What's the matter?" "I don't know. At first I thought you lied to me. Then I believed you. Now I don't know." "How come?" "You know what I'm thinking. You asked him about a Rose Fulton. It shocked him when you asked him that. Anybody could see that. Eloise Warden ran away with a man named Fulton. What would make you think to ask that Mr. Grassman that question?" She turned to face me. "What are you doing in Hillston, Tal? If that's your name." "I told you what I'm doing." "Why did you ask that man that question?" "The police picked me up last night. They had word that Rose Fulton had hired another man to come here. This will be the third. They thought I was that man. They interrogated me and then they let me go. So I guessed that maybe he was the man." We got out of the car. She was still looking at me oddly. "Tal, if you're here to write up Timmy, I think you would have told me that before now. It's a cute and interesting little story if you were here just to write up Timmy. And I can't believe that you could have forgotten it." "I just didn't--think of telling it." "That's no good, Tal." "I know it isn't." "What's wrong? Is it something you can't tell me?" "Look, Ruth. I--There is another reason why I came. I lied to you. I don't want to tell you why I came here. I'd rather not." "But it has something to do with Timmy." "That's right." "He is dead, isn't he?" "He's dead." "But how can I know when you're lying and when you're not?" "I guess you can't," I said helplessly. She locked the camp and, on the way back, told me which turns to take. She had nothing else to say. I drove into her place. She opened the door quickly to get out. "Wait a minute, Ruth." Her right foot was on the ground. She sat on the corner of the seat and turned and looked back at me. "Yes?" "I'm sorry about this." "You've made me feel like a fool. I talked a lot to you. I believed you and so I told you things I've never told anybody. Just to help you when you had no intention of writing up Timmy." "I tell you, I'm sorry."