"All in good time sonny," said the unmoved Frisco, "I stayed with the Colonel and let him keep my money because I did not want my wife to know I was alive. She was a good woman and I treated her like a brute. That was one reason. The second was because of my own skin. I did not want to be hanged, and Carr could have hanged me any day. The third reason," and here Frisco looked curiously at Herrick, "you'll hardly believe the third reason. But it was a kind of tenderness for Carr. Somehow, devil as he was, I liked him. Never met a man I cottoned to more. He saved my life, I saved his, we fought with knives and with fists, and played the devil with one another all round. Yet somehow we stuck together, and never went back on one another. Rum thing wasn't it Herrick." "Honour amongst thieves," said Dr. Jim with a shrug. "You bet that's it," retorted Frisco. "So you can see Herrick that I was not the sort of man to put Carr out of the way. I got drunk, so did he but we held together in that blamed house always waiting for death." "Ah! The Indians, I suppose." "Santiago told you that I guess," said the man. "Yes, there was some half Spanish half Indian greasers in Lima that would have followed us to the end of the world had they spotted our whereabouts. Santiago was one, but he wished for the money on his own hook and didn't split. Well Carr is dead so he is safe enough, but if I'm not hanged I guess Santiago will let out on me. Then I'll have a time getting away." "Was it on account of this fear that Carr built the tower." Frisco nodded. "You've hit it. Queer chap Carr, a mixture of bravado and fear. He threw down all the fences and walls and left the doors of the house open every night just to show he was not afraid. All the same he never slept but in that tower. I didn't. If any of the greasers had come, they'd have knifed me easy enough. Well Carr went under before his time but by the hand he least expected." "Who was it?" asked Herrick impatiently. "Well," drawled the ruffian "it wasn't Mrs. Marsh. We had a talk--" "I know all about that. I also saw the letter you wrote her." "Oh, you did. She kept that as an ace. Robin typed it on his blamed machine for me. I wanted to get the money quietly, but the old lady went under in time and spoilt my game there." "She killed herself," said Herrick curtly. "Did she now," said Frisco in admiration, "she was a screamer of a woman--not like my wife. Killed herself. Lord," he chuckled. "Go on with your story." "It is a story isn't it. Well I guess it was this way. I let Carr keep the money, when he was alive on the understanding that it was all left to me. He made a will in my favour, and then, the devil made a later one giving the money to Stephen with a reversion to me if his bones weren't looked after." "I know," said Herrick coolly, "and you tried to have Stephen disabled."