Jarman said no more, being afraid to press his inquiries. Natty was a babbling fool; still, it was not wise to arouse his suspicions. He might mention them to Captain Berry and Fan, when there would probably be trouble. And Jarman wished that estimable couple to look upon him as one wholly unconcerned in their shady doings. By assuring them of his lack of interest he hoped to throw them off their guard. The conversation became more or less frivolous, as was natural amongst such young people. Jarman was the eldest present, and he felt his forty years painfully. He even began to ask himself if it were fair that he should make Mildred his wife. She was young, he was elderly, and he remembered the proverb of May and December. He was not exactly December yet, but he was getting rapidly into the sear and yellow leaf. The reflection made him sad. When he went home with Frank--Natty remaining behind to play a game of tennis with Billy--he talked very little. Frank likewise was silent for a time, but ultimately he spoke first. "I was rather startled to-day?" he said, as they neared the Shanty. "Eh, what was that? Nothing wrong?" "No. But Jenny Arrow told me that Denham, according to Billy, had a Scarlet Bat tattooed on his left arm." "I know," said Jarman, quietly. "I saw it to-day when he was bathing. I intended to surprise you with the news. Strange that you should have made the discovery on the same day as I did. The long arm of coincidence again, I suppose." Frank paid little attention to this, being taken up with his own thoughts. "You know I have a Scarlet Bat tattooed on my right arm?" Jarman nodded. "I remember, and I suggested that as it was the sole mystery in your life, it might have to do with Berry's desiring to have you hanged. Now that we know Denham is marked in a similar way, it puts the matter beyond a doubt." "I can't see how," said Frank, frowning. "Wait till we get inside," said Jarman, "then we can talk at our ease." Not another word was spoken until they entered Jarman's den, and sat down in the coolness. The blinds were down and there was a pleasant darkness. Jarman closed the door, then took a seat opposite to that into which Lancaster had thrown himself. "Tell me again of your past," he said. "I want to refresh my memory." "There's so little to tell that I wonder you don't know every word by heart," said the other, drearily. "You only told me once, and my memory is a bad one. Go on."