He pauses for a moment, and then resumes his history, telling first, how in company with Mr. Follingsbee, he had entered the Warburton Mansion; had been presented to Leslie and learned from her lips that she had a secret to keep; how Van Vernet had discovered his presence there, and the means the latter had taken to detain him, and to secure the leadership of the Raid. Through the scenes of that night he led his amazed listeners; telling of Leslie's advent among the Francoise gang; of Alan's pursuit; the killing of Siebel; and the manner in which he had outwitted Vernet. Then on through the days that followed; relating how, disguised as Franz Francoise, he had appeared before the two old plotters; been accepted by them as the real Franz, and so dwelt among them. "It was an odd part to play, and oddly suggested," he said. "It was just after Vernet's discovery of Alan Warburton's picture, when I was at a loss how to make my next move, that I went to visit my wounded ex-convict--the one, you will remember, whom I rescued from the Thieves' Tavern. I found him very low; indeed dying. He was in a stupor when I came, but soon passed into delirium, and his ravings attracted my attention, for he repeated over and over again the name of Krutzer, Franz Krutzer. Now, I had obtained from Mr. Parks here, a list of the names of all who composed that wagon-train, and I remembered the name of Franz Krutzer. And as he raved on, I gathered material enough to arouse my suspicions. He talked of a child whom they wished to keep; of money hoarded and strangely gotten; of beatings because of his eavesdropping. One moment he defied them in wild, boyish bravado, and babbled gleefully of what he had overheard. The next, he writhed in imaginary torture under the lash, vowing that he did not listen; that he would never tell. Then he was frightened by an approaching thunder-storm; he was crouching beneath his blankets, and crying out: 'Oh, don't make me go out--don't; I'm afraid. I won't! I won't!' Then he seemed to have returned from somewhere. 'Let me in!' he cried. 'I'm wet and cold; let me in, quick! Yes, he's there; up by the big rock. He's fast asleep and I didn't wake him.' Then, 'where is dad going?' he said. 'Oh, I don't, I don't; I didn't have the hammer.' Then, after more random talk: 'I won't tell; don't beat me. I'll never tell that I saw him there asleep. Oh, maybe he was dead then!' "I had not intended to remain, but I did. I never left him until his ravings ceased; until the end came. In his last moments, consciousness returned. For a time he was strong, as the dying sometimes are. He was very grateful to me because I had not taken him back to the prison to die, and he willingly answered a few questions concerning himself and his parents. I had entered him at the hospital under a false name, and under that name he was buried.