Cripps nodded. “Fished him out of the river myself, with a beastly sailor-man, who dragged me into it by sheer brute force,” he replied. “And, ever since then, you’ve been appearing to me as a ghost—and frightening me out of what few wits I have left. Now—what are you going to do?” “First,” said Philip, sitting down near him—“I want to assure you that I am your friend; I want to plead with you to help me—to work with me to bring this business to an end. Who knows the real story, except yourself?” “No one,” said Cripps after a moment’s thought—“except the woman who took you to Australia.” “And she will say nothing, I know,” replied Philip. “Now there is a man—a cousin of mine—named Ogledon——” Cripps shook a feeble fist in the air. “Ogledon is a scoundrel—a devil,” he cried. “Ask him how Dandy Chater—your brother, mind you—met his death?” “If you know anything of that, Dr. Cripps—in mercy tell me!” exclaimed Philip. “Ogledon killed him; that much I know, from his own lips,” said the little man, after a pause. “You see, you have taken his place so neatly, that it has never occurred to anybody to imagine that Dandy is dead. I was always sorry for Dandy—oh—don’t laugh at me; I’m a drunken little creature, of no good to any one—but Dandy would have been all right, if it hadn’t have been for Ogledon. Ogledon took him, when he was a mere lad, and moulded him as he would. And then killed him to finish it. But there’s worse than that.” “Worse!” cried Philip. “What do you mean? What can be worse than that?” “Do you know a young girl named Marnham? No—Barnham—Barn——” “Barnshaw?” asked Philip, with his heart beginning to beat uncomfortably fast. “Barnshaw it is. Lives at a house near here. Well—Ogledon’s been sweet on her for a long time, although, from what I hear, she would have nothing to say to him.” “Heaven bless her! I should think not, indeed!” “Well—Ogledon made up his mind to get hold of her; he has sent her an urgent message to go to him, on the plea that he can explain about you.” “About me?” said Philip, in astonishment. “Yes—or rather about Dandy Chater. That was the message: ‘I can tell you the truth about Dandy Chater.’ At least, so the Shady ’un told me.” “The Shady ’un? What has he to do with it?” “Everything. He has been trusted by Ogledon with the message; I saw him this very afternoon, when he came in here to enquire the way—having missed it somehow or other. And Miss Barnshaw has gone back with him.” Philip Chater drew a deep breath. “Steady now, Cripps; let’s have this thing straight. You say the Shady ’un has taken Miss Barnshaw to Ogledon. Where is Ogledon? Where are they to meet?” “At a hut on the river bank, near The Three Watermen,” replied Cripps. “Where Dandy Chater met his death!” muttered Philip to himself. “Cripps, get into your clothes; we’ll follow them at once!” CHAPTER XXIII DANDY CHATER COMES FROM THE GRAVE