"I am," said Brack. "I've had a tip for the races here, for the double, and I've got ten bob to put on; the gentleman who's goin' to ride gave it me. He says to me as I left the yacht--I'd rowed him out there--he says, 'Here, Brack, there's half a sov. for you. Back The Rascal for the double.' And I mean to." "The Rascal?" "That's the name of the horse--funny, isn't it?" "Who was the gentleman?" "The owner of the _Sea-mew_, the yacht lying at anchor in the bay." "The yacht with such beautiful lines, painted white? I just saw her as I came along by the wall before I met you, my good friend." "That's her. She's not big but she's a gem. She's been here several times." "And who is the owner?" "The same as rides Mr. Langford's horses at the races." "But you have not told me who he is." "Ain't I? No more I have! It's Mr. Picton Woodridge." The man stared at Brack; he seemed on the point of falling off his chair. "Picton Woodridge," he said in a hoarse voice. "Yes; have you met him in days gone by?" asked Brack. "He is my younger brother," said the man. "I am Hector Woodridge." It was Brack's turn to stare now. This man he had brought to his home Picton Woodridge's brother? Was it possible? This was indeed a strange chance! He peered into his companion's face, trying to trace a resemblance, and found one. "Yes," he said, "you're like him, or you were once." Hector Woodridge sighed. "Once," he said; "it all seems such a long while ago." "I remember, I recollect now," said Brack. "I wonder it did not strike me afore. Yer a Yorkshire family. I know, at Haverton. I was a boatman at Scarborough when it happened. I always said you were innocent; I call to mind the trial well. Yer Mr. Hector Woodridge, thank God for that; I see a way out of it all. You must bide here and I'll pick the night when I can get you away." "Get me away!" exclaimed Hector. "How, where shall I go?" "Leave that to me. There's a man on the watch here. His name's Carl Hackler. He's from Dartmoor, and he's prowling around here on the lookout--has been for a week or more." "I don't remember his name," said Hector. "Likely enough not; there's plenty of 'em there as you'd never see, but he's seen you, and he'd recognize you. I've fooled him once and I think he knows it; I'll have a stiff job to do it again; but I will do it, and you'll get clear away." "What is your plan?" Brack hesitated; he wondered if Hector Woodridge would care to go on board the _Sea-mew_, whether he would be afraid to implicate his brother. He decided it would be better for his purpose not to say what his plan was until he had his man safe in his boat on the way to the yacht. "I'll tell you that when the time's ripe. You'd best turn in and have some sleep; you look as though you could do with it." "I can. Where shall I go?" "In there," said Brack, pointing to a small room. "It is your room." "Never mind me. Go in and rest."