“Excuse me, Smiley, but that's absurd. I already have a case against Stenzenberger. Even if I hadn't, it would outrage common-sense to state that this man, a lumber merchant, could handle quantities of hollow timbers, could have them right there under his nose all this time, without knowing it.” But Henry was stubborn. “Very well,” added Beveridge, “this is your statement. I will take down just what you choose to say.” “You've got about enough there, I should imagine. Oh, about Wilson! I was in the bushes just below the bridge, when he started to run around the house, and I shot him. There, now, with the confession of the smuggling and the shooting, you ought to have a case. Copy it out, put it in the right legal shape, and I 'll sign it. All but the Stenzen-berger part. I admit nothing about him.” “All right. I 'll put it down as you want. It makes no difference to me, for you can never save him.” “One thing, Henry,” said Dick, “that I don't understand. What was McGlory after when he ran the _Anne_ up to Burnt Cove that time?” “McGlory,” Henry replied, “was a fool. When you first told me about it, I didn't know what to think myself, but after thinking it over, and from the way he has talked since when he was a little drunk, I think I have made it out. He has been planning for some time to skip with this Estelle--desert his wife. He arranged it with her that time he came up with you. And as what ready money he had was down in Chicago, where he couldn't very well get at it without his wife knowing it, he took the chance of getting to Burnt Cove while you were sleeping off--” Henry smiled. “I guess old Spencer served you some pretty strong fluids up there that day. Well, anyway, McGlory thought he could take quite a lot of the stuff aboard, sell it through one of our regular trade channels, and get off with the money without going home. He couldn't get it into his head that you really knew nothing about the business. It was a crazy thing to do.” “I should think so.” “McGlory and Roche are pretty good examples of the sort of thing I have had to contend with. I've never been able to get good reliable men to work for me.” Beveridge wanted to smile over the incongruity in this speech, but he controlled himself and listened soberly. Henry went on:-- “If I could have handled it alone, or with only Spencer to help, you would never have got me. But with such a big business, I had to employ a good many men. That was my weak spot. I've known it all along and dreaded it, but I had to run the risk. There's a risk in every business, and that was the risk in mine. No, sir, if I could have had competent men, I should be laughing to-day at the whole revenue system.” “I should take exception to that, Smiley,” said Beveridge. “Your men weren't the only thing that gave you away, not by any means.” “Oh, weren't they?”