Viney pulled his arm from the old man's grasp, turned, and crawled up a stair or two. "No," he said faintly, "I--I won't, now--I--they'd know me p'raps, some of them." His breath was short, and he gulped. "Good God," he said presently, "it's him--it's him sure enough. And the clothes he had on.... But ... Cap'en--Cap'en Nat; go an' try his pockets.--Go on. There's a pocket-book--leather pocket-book.... Go on!" "What's the good?" asked Captain Nat, with a lift of the eyebrows, and the same low voice. "What's the good? I can't fetch it away, with all them witnesses. Go yourself, an' say you're his pardner; you'd have a chance then." "No--no. I--it ain't good enough. You know 'em; I don't. I'll stand in with you--give you a hundred if it's all there! Square 'em--you know 'em!" "If they're to be squared you can do it as well as me. There'll be an inquest on this, an' evidence. I ain't going to be asked what I did with the man's pocket-book. No. I don't meddle in this, Mr. Viney. If it ain't good enough for you to get it for yourself, it ain't good enough for me to get it for you." "Kemp, I'll go you halves--there! Get it, an' there's four hundred for you. Eight hundred an' odd quid, in a pocket-book. Come, that's worth it, ain't it? Eight hundred an' odd quid--in a leather pocket-book! An' I'll go you halves." Captain Nat started at the words, and stood for a moment, staring. "Eight hundred!" he repeated under his breath. "Eight hundred an' odd quid. In a leather pocket-book. Ah!" And the stare persisted, and grew thoughtful. "Yes," replied Viney, now a little more himself. "Now you know; and it's worth it, ain't it? Don't waste time--they're turning him over themselves. You can manage all these chaps. Go on!" "I'll see if anything's there," answered Captain Nat. "More I can't; an' if there's nothing that's an end of it." He went down to where the men were bending over the body, to disengage the tow-line. He looked again at the drawn face under the gaping forehead, and said something to the men; then he bent and patted the soddened clothes, now here, now there; and at last felt in the breast-pocket. Meantime Viney stood feverishly on the stairs, watching; fidgeting nervously down a step, and then down another, and then down two more. And so till Captain Nat returned. The old man shook his head. "Cleaned out," he reported. "Cleaned out, o' course. Hit on the head an' cleaned out, like many a score better men before him, down these parts. Not a thing in the pockets anywhere. Flimped clean." Viney's eyes were wild. "Nothing at all left?" he said. "Nothing of his own? Not a watch, nor anything?" "No, not a watch, nor anything." Viney stood staring at space for some moments, murmuring many oaths. Then he asked suddenly, "Where's this blind chap? Where can I find Blind George?" Grandfather Nat shook his head. "He's all over the neighbourhood," he answered. "Try the Highway; I can't give you nearer than that."