“He had been at pains to secrete carefully anything of the kind, I suppose,” remarked Austin. “The villain!” “Why, he had been a very decent sort all along,” said Kenyon, beginning to resume his things. “It was being moneyless in a strange country that broke his nerve and drove him to rascality, like as not. There are types of men who cannot bear up under poverty, you know.” He drew on his gloves and took up his stick and hat. “At any rate, I prefer to look at it so, for as I told you some time ago, Garry, he once saved my life.” He stood with his hand upon the door-knob, about to go, nodding over his shoulder at the two at the table. Then a sudden smile crossed his face, and he turned once more. “That reminds me,” said he. “You know that we were all rather puzzled by the statement of Farbush’s made the other night, that he had seen us together,” to Austin, “on the night of the adventure on the East River. Well, a chance remark of Anna’s to-day shed some light upon that.” “Let us have it,” pleaded Webster. “It seems that Anna once had a glimpse of you in ’Frisco,” continued Kenyon to Austin. “She was walking with Forrester when you went by in a motor-car; and he pointed you out.” Then the speaker turned to Webster. “Do you recall the night that we dined downstairs--the night that Farbush first appeared?” “Of course.” “Well, the girl in the heavy veil was Anna. And she mistook you for Austin. She had had only one glimpse of you,” to Austin. “And I suppose the only impression left by it was that you were rather short, somewhat stout and had reddish hair. Well, if you’ll notice it, Webster has the same general characteristics; and what more natural mistake could she make when she saw him with me at such a stage in the proceedings? So she told Farbush that Webster was Austin.” “But about the night upon the river?” demanded Webster, perplexed. “It’s very simple. When the searchlight from the fort swept the deck of the Vixen, you were plainly in sight. Farbush saw you; but I thought at the time that it was Miss Gilbert whom he had recognized.” “Life in large cities is a peculiar thing,” mused Webster, sotto voce, and in an exaggerated attitude of melodrama. “It is, really!” “And Farbush’s hurried note to you that evening below, congratulating you upon your celerity and warning you against overboldness, was all upon the strength of your supposed rapid finding of me,” laughed Austin. “Well, well! That was a curious turn enough.” “Have you learned anything as to why old Mr. Austin’s body was removed secretly, in the night, from the house in Selden’s Square?” asked Webster. “I could never understand that move, among others.”