"Who'd have recognized me?" asked Carl. "Him as yer looking for." Carl laughed. "Not likely; I don't think he ever saw me." "But you've seen him?" "Scores of times." "You'd know him again?" "Of course; he's easy to recognize. But they've probably got him by now." "Poor chap." "Call him that, do you? You'd not do it if you knew what he was there for." "Tell me." "He shot a man whose wife he had been carrying on with. It was a brutal, cold-blooded murder. The husband found them together; they were fairly trapped, so the fellow shot him." "Funny he should carry a revolver about with him," said Brack. "It wasn't his revolver, it was the husband's; that's why he was reprieved. It was argued that the weapon was in the room, that on the spur of the moment he picked it up and shot him." "Oh," said Brack meditatively. "I suppose it never occurred to you, or the larned judge, or the blessed jury, that some one else might have shot him." Carl laughed. "Who else could have shot him?" "It's not for me to say; I'm not clever enough. She might 'a' done it." "Who?" "The wife." "What nonsense! He confessed he did it." "Eh!" exclaimed Brack. "I say he confessed he fired the shot." "And he says he's innocent," said Brack. Carl stared at him. "Says he's innocent!" he exclaimed. "How do you know?" Brack saw his mistake and quickly covered it. "I lived in Yorkshire at the time. I know all about the trial; I read it." "Oh," said Carl. "If you read it you know more about it than I do." "Very likely," said Brack as the boat went alongside the steps. Carl landed; he gave Brack half a crown. "Five bob," said Brack. "But you didn't go to the tramp." "I couldn't; she was away." "Then you can't claim the lot," said Carl, who was annoyed at missing the steamer. "I suppose not exactly," drawled Brack, "but betwixt gents, I should say it holds good." Despite his annoyance, Carl could not help laughing. "I suppose you must have it," he said, and handed him another half-crown. "Goin' home to-day?" asked Brack. "Home!" "To Dartmoor." "That's not my home." "It's where yer located, at any rate." "I don't know. There's no trace of the man. It's queer where he's got to; I fancy he's dead--fallen down a mine, or been starved out." "That's about it," said Brack. "Fancy looking for him round here! Seems a bit soft to me." "You take a lot of interest in this man," said Carl eying him closely. "No more than I do in any man who makes a fight for liberty." "Would you let 'em all loose on Dartmoor?" sneered Carl. "I'd chance it if there were any innocent men among 'em." "There are none." "There's one I know of." "Who?" "My brother Bill." Carl laughed as he said: "Your brother Bill was lucky not to be hanged," and walked away. Brack scowled after him and muttered: "And you'll be lucky not to be drowned if yer not careful." When Brack arrived home he told Hector Woodridge what happened.