"I'm going to Overstow by the nine-thirty from King's Cross to-night," he said. "If you can join me, do. The air is better in Yorkshire than in London, don't you think so, old chap?" "Right-oh!" I replied. "I'll travel up with you." We met, and early next morning we were back at Overstow. Yet I managed to suppress any untoward curiosity. It was only when about a week later I read in the paper of the result of the discovery of Scotland Yard finger-print department and of a consequent arrest that I sat aghast. A notorious jewel-thief named Hersleton, alias Hugh Martyn, an American, had been arrested at a hotel at Brighton, and had been charged at Bow Street with the murderous attack upon the night watchman at the Chartered Bank of Liberia, his finger-prints, taken some years before, coinciding exactly with those left at the bank. He had violently protested his innocence, but had been committed for trial. At the Old Bailey six weeks later, the night watchman having fortunately recovered from his injuries, Hugh Martyn was brought before Mr. Justice Harland, and though very ably defended by his counsel, he was quite unable to account for his movements on the night in question. "I was never there!" the prisoner shrieked across the court to the judge as I sat in the public gallery watching the scene. "I know nothing of the affair--nothing whatever. I am innocent." "It is undeniable that the prisoner's finger-prints were left there," remarked the eminent counsel for the Treasury, rising very calmly. "We have them here before us--enlarged photographs which the jury have just seen. Gentlemen of the jury, I put it to you that the prisoner is the man who assisted in this dastardly crime!" The jury, after a short retirement, found Hugh Martyn guilty, and the judge, after hearing his previous convictions, sentenced him to fifteen years' penal servitude. But Mr. Justice Harland has never known, until perhaps he may read these lines, that by the ingenious machinations of the super-criminal Rudolph Rayne, Hugh Martyn, who was one of his associates who had quarrelled with him over his share of a bank robbery in Madrid, and had tried to betray me to Benton on Clifton Bridge, had been the victim of a most dastardly treachery, though he was quite unaware of it and believed Rayne to be his friend.