n, that
you won't find here. It challenged me from the jump, my boy, and I'm
inclined to think that in that thread of silk I shall just find the
reason of your failure, before I've wound it up."

"I don't understand you, Ganns."

"You wouldn't--not yet. But we'll change the metaphor. We'll say
there was a red herring drawn across the trail, and that you took
the bait and, having started right enough, presently forsook the
right scent for the wrong."

"Puzzle--to find the red herring," said Mark.

Mr. Ganns smiled.

"I think I've found it," he replied. "But on the other hand, perhaps
I haven't. In twenty-four hours I shall know. I hope I'm right--for
your sake. If I am, then you are discharged without a stain on your
character; if I'm not, then the case is black against you."

Brendon made no reply. Neither his conscience nor his wit threw any
light on the point. Then Peter, turning to his notes, touched on a
minor incident and showed the other that it admitted of a doubt.

"D'you remember the night you left 'Crow's Nest' after your first
visit? On the way back to Dartmouth you suddenly saw Robert Redmayne
standing by a gate; and when the moonlight revealed you to him, he
leaped away and disappeared into the trees. Why?"

"He knew me."

"How?"

"We had met at Princetown and we had spoken together for some
minutes by the pool in Foggintor Quarry, where I was fishing."

"That's right. But he didn't know who you were then. Even if he'd
remembered meeting you six months before in the dusk at Foggintor,
why should he think you were a man who was hunting him?"

Mark reflected.

"That's true," he said. "Probably he'd have bolted from anybody that
night, not wishing to be seen."

"I only raise the question. Of course it is easily explained on a
general assumption that Redmayne knew every man's hand was against
him. He would naturally, in his hunted state, fly the near approach
of a man."

"Probably he didn't remember me."

"Probably; but there are possibilities about the action. He might
have been warned against you."

"There was nobody to warn him. He had not yet seen his niece, nor
spoken with her. Who else could have warned him--except Bendigo
Redmayne himself?"

Peter did not pursue the subject. He shut his book, yawned, took
snuff, and declared himself ready for a meal. The long day passed
and both men turned in early and slept till daybreak.

Before noon they had left Baveno on a steamer and were