"So the jury say, but--" "And so I say. I know exactly how it happened. Starth thought that I was going to marry Lancaster, and they had a row. Then Frank, who always carried a revolver, shot him." "And knifed him afterwards like your friend, Lo Keong, did Anchor." "That _was_ strange," admitted Fan, thoughtfully. "I don't think such a nice boy as Frank would act so brutally; and it's odd that my husband should have been treated in the same way." "A coincidence, I suppose," said Eustace, indifferently, knowing that Fan was watching him closely. "What's become of Lancaster?" "I don't know. I wish I did. He should hang." "I thought you liked him, as a nice boy." "So I did," she replied, "but I liked Starth better." "Oh!" Jarman found it difficult to believe this. She eyed him suspiciously, and he would have explained himself further, but that Banjo Berry, followed by a young man, entered the room. "Uncle," said Fan, rising and anticipating Eustace, "who do you think Leonard Grant, who wants to do the sketch, is?" "Well, this is very curious," said Berry, shaking Eustace by the hand in the warmest and most friendly way. "Jarman, of 'Frisco." "That's me," responded Eustace. "How are you, Sakers?" Berry winked. "Don't need that name now," said he. "There's no chance of my getting run in for piling up that old schooner at Samoa. I'm Banjo Berry now. M'own name, and it's a hummer in the South Seas." "I've been explaining all that to him," said Fan, impatiently. "I say, Mr. Jarman"--Eustace observed the punctiliousness--"do you know this boy, Natty Denham?" The boy, so-called, was a callow young gentleman of twenty-five, dark-haired and brown-complexioned. He had a pleasant smile but rather a vacant expression, and in Jarman's mind was sized up, not exactly as a fool, but as a youth of rather weak will. He thrust forward a slim hand, and gave Eustace a nerveless handshake. "How do you do?" he said, talking very fast. "I never met you in 'Frisco, but I saw you often. I'm Chicago m'self, and came to this old country along with the Captain and Miss Berry." "You never met in 'Frisco?" asked Fan, addressing Jarman. "No. I heard you talk of Mr. Denham, though." It seemed to Eustace that both Fan and her uncle were rather relieved by this admission, and he wondered what connection this fool could have with the game the two were playing. He fancied that Denham was the pigeon, and Berry & Co. the hawks. It also struck him that if he could get Natty to himself he might find out something, always supposing that the young fellow knew anything. Later on, after a desultory and friendly conversation, Natty gave him an opening. "I say," said he, "you live down in Essex?" "Yes. At Wargrove." Natty nodded to Fan and the Captain. "I knew," he said. "Can't understand how it slipped my memory." "What slipped your memory, Bub?" asked Berry, sharply.