“I am not referring to Pat’s sayings. I am asking you, or will do so, to explain about this man bearing the same name and having the same birth-place and the same number in his family as you have told me that you have. Your statements were identical, and do you not know that this is your brother? I believe that he is, and why do you not want to acknowledge him, or find out whether he is guilty or innocent?” “How often, sir, do we meet men who have the same name as ourselves—many time the surname and the Christian name are the same. I am under the impression that this is one of those times.” “And I am very sorry, Pearson, but I am thinking that, although it is very unfortunate for you, this is not an accident.” “I do not understand you, sir.” “Well, then, I will make it plainer. I think that the convict here is your brother, and you know it.” “You are judging me too harshly. I am not deserving of that opinion from you.” “You must do something to prove your innocence; otherwise I shall notify the authorities and lay the circumstances before them.” Pearson was silent. “You have my sympathy, but we should show no partiality in our dealings with our fellow-men. They must be treated fairly. Even prisoners must receive justice. I shall leave you to think this matter over, and you may report to me, later, how you feel about the matter.” “I have nothing to think over and decide on.” “Then you will acknowledge that you are his brother?” “I may be, and if I am, I shall only be by birth. I shall never claim a murderer for a brother.” “_You are accusing him wrongfully. He is not a murderer._” “Pearson, for God’s sake, where did that voice come from?” “I can not tell.” “_Then I will show myself._” “Mother, mother, mother! Help! help!” “Well, I have stayed away long enough. I think it’s about time they was doing something to the poor convict.” It was Pat’s voice, this time. “Perhaps I will be needed. I hear a call for help. I may find the whole bunch dead.” “Come quick, Pat!” “What in the ⸺ is the matter, now?” “I was talking to Pearson, and he threw up his hands and cried out, ‘Mother!’ three times, and called for help. He has fainted. You had better call a doctor, or go for one; the wires may be busy.” “Yes, I think the wires is crossed at this end, and I am belaving someone will lose his job before they get them straightened, and if it is me, I am willing to go. Many a poor devil would be glad to lose his job here. I hope I find the doctor in and not busy. The poor officer may get tired laying in a fit so long.” “Well, Pat, you have got another dead man for me to take care of, have you?” “That is what I came for, and you had better make it lively. The superior officer don’t feel very comfortable over the affair.” “You mean that I am wanted at the office?” “And I would not be saying so if you were not wanted.” “Well, Pat, I sometimes think that you are like the Dutchman. I must take you as you mean, and not as you say.”