The man “cal’lated” that he did see him; that he knew him; was perfectly satisfied, at the time, that Mr. Birch was the person with Buckstone. It was not an afterthought; it was not something which Dr. Bilks had put into his head; he “knowed it all along.” “Hubbard, has Dr. Bilks given you any money?” “Not the first cent!” “If he has, I am willing to give you twice as much more.” “Do you think I would lie for money, Mr. Birch?” demanded the fisherman, indignantly. “I don’t believe you would, Hubbard. I want the truth. If you know anything which you haven’t told, you ought to let it out. If any one has paid you to keep back the truth, or any part of it----” “No one has paid me a red cent, Mr. Birch,” protested Hubbard, who doubtless intended to tell the truth. Mr. Richard Birch believed in the truth; but he was willing to neutralize the cupidity of base men by paying more for the truth than his enemies would for lies. So far he was content to “fight the devil with his own weapons”--no farther. He knew that testimony thus obtained was worth nothing in a court of justice; but he hoped thereby to obtain a clew which would enable him to unravel the tangled skein, and obtain reliable evidence. He questioned Hubbard with the utmost minuteness in regard to his interview with Dr. Bilks; but the fisherman still persisted that he knew the stranger was Mr. Birch before the doctor said a word to him. It was possible. They were both of the same height. Both wore light spring overcoats in the evening and on cool days. Hubbard might be perfectly honest, but it was more than probable that his opinion had been fortified by Dr. Bilks’s carefully-made suggestions. Mr. Birch left the fisherman, almost prepared to believe that he was himself the “stranger;” that he had been with Buckstone just before the murder. The man was very positive, but he hoped Mr. Birch would not be injured by the truth. He didn’t want any man’s money when he did not earn it. If Mr. Birch had got into any “scrape,” he was sorry for it, and was willing to do anything he could to help him out, but he wouldn’t lie on the stand. Hubbard was a hard customer, in popular parlance. What he believed, he believed with all his might. He would do anything in reason to help a friend out of trouble; but his “nateral” conscience would not let him go on the stand and tell what was not true. Dick Birch left him with a higher respect for his integrity than he had ever entertained before, though it was none the less evident that the fisherman was mistaken. He was not willing to swear that the stranger was Mr. Birch, but to the best of his knowledge and belief such was the fact.