"That's just where yer wrong," said Brack. "I've a brother in there now, and he's innocent, I'll swear it." Dick maintained a diplomatic silence. "Of course you'll not believe it, but it'll come out some day. He was on a man-o-warsman, and they lagged him for knocking a petty officer overboard; the chap was drowned, but Bill swore he never had a hand in it, and I believes him. At the trial it came out Bill had a down on the man; and no wonder--he was a brute, and a good riddance." "Do you know who knocked him over?" "No, but it's my firm belief Bill does, and that he's sufferin' for another, won't give him away." Dick smiled. "You don't know Bill; I does," said Brack emphatically. "But what about this man who escaped? Why do you think he'll get away?" "'Cause he's a good plucked 'un, a fighter, a brave man," said Brack. "In what way?" "They put bloodhounds on his track. One brute got away, they didn't find him for three days, when they did----," Brack hesitated; he wished to rouse his listener's attention. He succeeded. "Go on," said Dick eagerly. "The trackers found the hound dead, and alongside him was a suit of convict clothes--nice well marked suits, ain't they; you can't mistake 'em," said Brack. "You don't mean to say the fellow killed the hound, and left his clothes beside it!" exclaimed Dick. "That's just what I have said, mister. Clever, weren't it? When the other hound found his mate, he found the clothes, and he lost the scent." "How?" "'Cause the man must have fled stark naked, and the hound only had the scent of his clothes; must have been that, 'cause he couldn't follow him. He'll get off right enough--you see if he don't. I wish Bill could do the same." "How did he kill the hound?" asked Dick. "And where did you hear all this?" "Strangled it. He's a good 'un he is; I'd like to have seen it. As for how I come to know by it, one of the men from the prison was here. He questioned me," said Brack with a grin. "Asked me if I'd seen a man like the one he gave a description of." "What did you say?" asked Dick. "Kept him talking for half an hour or more, gave 'im heaps of information. I filled him up, never you fear." "But you didn't see the man?" said Dick. "Lor' no! Wish I had, and that he was stowed away somewhere. I told the fellow I'd seen just such a man as he described, with his hands bound up in bandages, and a cloth round his neck. Said he'd a suit of old sailor's togs on, and that he went out in a boat with a lot of rowdy fellers to a 'tramp' in the Bay, and he didn't come back," chuckled Brack. "And what was the result of your false information?" asked Dick. "I'll tell you what the result will be. It will put 'em off the scent; they'll think he's gone off on the 'tramp' to London, and they'll give him a rest on the moor for a bit," said Brack. "You think the man is still on the moor?" "'Course; where else should he be?" "Then he's sure to be caught."