“Oncet or twicet, maybe, and I cain’t say but that it does look like the feller, and, come to think on’t, Mr. Rupert did look like the doctor more’n this before he shaved off his mustache!” returned Jake, giving himself away thoughtlessly, as the doctor hoped he would. “So this is John Rupert, the wounded stranger?” he exclaimed. “Well, now, mister, I’ve let the cat out o’ the bag, ain’t I?” the ferryman exclaimed, in dismay. “Well, well, as wife said last night, ’tain’t a hangin’ secret, and I never could see why the young feller objected to my havin’ his picture, so that I had to get a snapshot at him on the sly one day when he was lookin’ out o’ the garret winder. He was mighty close-mouthed, and I don’t talk about him much, ’cause I know as he wouldn’t wish it, and he was kind and liberal to us, sending us money and presents after he went away, you see!” Doctor St. Clair began to feel so sure of his ground that his eyes gleamed, and a sinister, exulting smile played around his bearded lips. “What air you a-grinnin’ at, stranger?” demanded Mandy resentfully, fearing his derision was directed at her shabby gingham gown. “I was laughing at your credulity, my good friends,” he replied. “As how?” queried Jake, wrinkling his bushy gray brows in an angry frown. Mountaineers are very dignified, and resent ridicule of themselves. Doctor St. Clair repressed his smile and answered coolly: “My good friends, you have been duped. You have nursed a viper in your breast.” “As how?” the ferryman demanded stupidly. The stubbly gray hair seemed almost to stand erect on his head with horror as his guest replied: “Doctor Ludington’s corpse did not roll into the river, as you supposed, but into your back yard, and the shock of the fall restored him to life from the trance in which he must have been lying. So you and your kind-hearted wife nursed the villain back to health, and then it was no wonder he was afraid for any one to find him out!” The homely pair were incredulous at first, but little by little he brought them to believe in his theory, and then they were enraged to think how they had been imposed upon by a Ludington. In this mood he found it easy to persuade the man to lodge his information with the authorities, adding himself the facts of Doctor Ludington’s residence at Weston as Doctor Rupert. But he took care to impress on them that he did not care to be mentioned in the case at all. He had no personal interest in it. He had only been interested in the story, and struck by the coincidence, so that he had worked out the truth for himself. He would not even divulge his name, but he made sure before he left that the officers were en route to Weston to arrest the suspected Doctor Rupert. CHAPTER XXIII. THE TRUTH AT LAST. “What mystery is here?” cried a man’s voice sharply, with a note of subtle pain.