boy. I have been expecting him to
turn up, ever since I got here; and shall begin to be afraid that
those scoundrels have ill treated him, if he does not turn up
before long."

"My wife has been telling me that they knew you at home, Whitney;
and that she and her people did you some terrible injustice,
somehow. But she wouldn't go into the matter. Curious, isn't it,
your meeting at this end of the world; and that, too, at such a
moment?"

"It is curious," Reuben said; "what people call a coincidence. But
Mrs. Donald is mistaken in telling you that her people did me an
injustice. Her father was one of the kindest friends I ever had,
and although Mrs. Ellison somewhat misjudged me, and her daughter
naturally shared her feeling, they were not in anyway to be blamed
for that; for they only thought as ninety-nine people out of a
hundred did."

"Whitney, Whitney," Mr. Donald muttered to himself. "I seemed to
know the name, though I cannot recall where.

"Ah!" he said suddenly, "of course I remember now, for I was in the
court when--" and he stopped.

"When I was tried," Reuben put in quietly. "Yes, that was me. I was
acquitted, as you know, principally from the way in which Mr.
Ellison stood up for me. Thank God that he never, for an instant,
believed that I was guilty."

"And to think it should be you!" Mr. Donald said. "How strange
things turn out! I remember I could not make up my mind about it.
It seemed so strange, either way."

"We had better not talk about it now," Reuben said quietly. "I said
then, and I say now, that I knew the people who did it and, strange
as the circumstances have already been, you may think them stranger
still, some day, if I bring one of them before you, alive or dead."

At this moment there was a knock at the door, and Mrs. Donald came
in and said that one of the constabulary wished to speak to Reuben.

"Then I will say goodnight. I hope I shall find you getting on
nicely, in the morning, Mr. Donald.

"Will you say goodnight to Miss Ellison and Mrs. Barker for me,
Mrs. Donald? And tell Mr. Barker that I shall be ready, in five
minutes, to smoke that pipe we talked about with him, outside."

Chapter 16: Jim's Report.

"Jones, what is it?"

"Your black has just come, sir. I would not let him come in; for
the fact is, he ain't a figure to introduce among ladies."

"What's the matter with him, Jones? Not hurt, I hope?"

"He has been knocked about a bit, sir; and he is don