as ever. Over his shoulder he carried a bag, tied round and round
with a rope. It was not until the crowd and the man it surrounded had
come quite near that the Squire and the lieutenant saw that a pair
of legs in gray-yarn stockings hung from the bag. It was a man he was
carrying.

Hiram had lugged his burden five miles that morning without help and
with scarcely a rest on the way.

He came directly toward the Squire's office and, still sun rounded and
hustled by the crowd, up the steep steps to the office within. He flung
his burden heavily upon the floor without a word and wiped his streaming
forehead.

The Squire stood with his knuckles on his desk, staring first at Hiram
and then at the strange burden he had brought. A sudden hush fell upon
all, though the voices of those without sounded as loud and turbulent as
ever. "What is it, Hiram?" said Squire Hall at last.

Then for the first time Hiram spoke, panting thickly. "It's a bloody
murderer," said he, pointing a quivering finger at the motionless
figure.

"Here, some of you!" called out the Squire. "Come! Untie this man! Who
is he?" A dozen willing fingers quickly unknotted the rope and the bag
was slipped from the head and body.

Hair and face and eyebrows and clothes were powdered with meal, but,
in spite of all and through all the innocent whiteness, dark spots and
blotches and smears of blood showed upon head and arm and shirt. Levi
raised himself upon his elbow and looked scowlingly around at the
amazed, wonderstruck faces surrounding him.

"Why, it's Levi West!" croaked the Squire, at last finding his voice.

Then, suddenly, Lieutenant Maynard pushed forward, before the others
crowded around the figure on the floor, and, clutching Levi by the hair,
dragged his head backward so as to better see his face. "Levi West!"
said he in a loud voice. "Is this the Levi West you've been telling
me of? Look at that scar and the mark on his cheek! THIS IS BLUESKIN
HIMSELF."

XIV

In the chest which Blueskin had dug up out of the sand were found not
only the goldsmiths' bills taken from the packet, but also many
other valuables belonging to the officers and the passengers of the
unfortunate ship.

The New York agents offered Hiram a handsome reward for his efforts
in recovering the lost bills, but Hiram declined it, positively and
finally. "All I want," said he, in his usual dull, stolid fashion, "is
to have folks know I'm honest." Nevertheless, though he