Crawford paused a moment in thought. He laughed and said, "I have a little bet on. I betted that a man did come along the tow-path, but did not come off it at the bridge here. I was looking out of a window and saw him. My friend said it was impossible, as the man otherwise must go into the canal." It was plain Crawford did not appear anxious about the man himself. It was only about the wager he cared. "The man went across the canal." "Across the canal!" cried Crawford in astonishment. "Do you mean over the bridge?" "No." "Then how did he get across the canal?" "How much have you on it?" asked Red Jim. He was afraid his own interests might suffer if he gave all the information he possessed before making terms. "Confound you! what is that to you?" cried Crawford angrily. "Well, then, I'll tell you how he went across," said Red Jim, looking up straight over his head at the sky. "How did he get over?" cried the other impatiently, as Jim showed no sign of speaking. "He flew," said Jim, suddenly dropping his full prominent blue eyes on Crawford. "He flew, that's the way he got across the canal." And, thrusting his hands deep into his wide-opened trousers pockets, he began moving slowly away. For a moment Crawford looked as if he could kill Ford. Then, with a sudden quick laugh, he said: "Oh, I understand; I will make it worth a tanner for you." Red Jim was back by his side in a moment. He stretched out his arm, and, pointing towards the tail of the island, said: "Do you see that floating stage?" "Floating stage? No. What is a floating stage?" "Two long pieces of timber with planks across. Don't you see it at the tail of Boland's Ait?" "Yes, I do." "Well, that's the way he got over. That was drawn by a chain across the canal to the tow-path. He got on it and then drew it back to the Ait, do you see? So you've won your money, guv'nor." Crawford's face grew darker and darker, as the explanation proceeded. He handed Jim the promised coin in silence, turned back upon the way he had come, and began retracing his steps at a quick rate. His eyes winked rapidly, and he muttered curses as he walked. "Can it be--can it possibly be that Philip Ray is my next-door neighbour? Incredible! And yet that was Philip Ray, as sure as I am alive, and he went to this island! Can this Robinson Crusoe be Philip Ray? If so, I cannot keep on here. I must find some other place for my--business. This is not exactly Camberwell, and I heard Ray lives in Camberwell; but this is very near it--very near Camberwell!" When he reached Crawford Street he diminished his speed. It was plain he did not want to seem in a hurry. As soon as he gained the house he ascended the stairs at once to his own room. He closed the door, and began walking up and down, hastily muttering unconnected words. After a while he went to the window and looked out on Boland's Ait with an expression in which hatred and fear were blended.