olemn?"

"I've always trusted mine, Fish," answered Scarterfield.

"Same here, master, till awhile ago," replied Fish. "But now I ain't
so mortal sure o' that matter as I was! 'Cause, according to my eyes,
and according to my ears, I see Netherfield Baxter, and I hear
Netherfield Baxter, inside o' three weeks ago!"

He brought down his big hand on the table with a hearty smack as he
spoke the last word or two; the sound of it was followed by a dead
silence, in which Scarterfield and I exchanged quick glances. Fish
picked up his tumbler, took a gulp at its contents, and set it down
with emphasis.

"Gospel truth!" he exclaimed.

"That you did see him?" asked Scarterfield.

"Gospel truth, master, that if my eyes and ears is to be trusted I see
him and I hear him!" declared Fish. "Only," he continued, after a
pause, during which he stared fixedly, first at me, then at
Scarterfield. "Only--he said as how he wasn't he! D'ye understand?
Denied his-self!"

"What you mean is that the man you took for Baxter said you were
mistaken, and that he wasn't Baxter," suggested Scarterfield. "That
it?"

"You puts it very plain, master," assented Fish. "That is what did
happen. But if the man I refers to wasn't Netherfield Baxter, then
I've no more eyes than this here cigar, and no more ears than that
glass! Fact!"

"But you've never had reason to doubt either before, I suppose," said
Scarterfield. "And you're not inclined to doubt them now. Now then,
let's get to business. You really believe, Fish, that you met
Netherfield Baxter about three weeks ago? That's about it, isn't it?
Never mind what the man said--you took him to be Baxter. Now, where
was this?"

"Hull!" replied Fish. "Three weeks ago come Friday."

"Under what circumstances?" asked Scarterfield. "Tell us about it."

"Ain't such a long story, neither," remarked Fish. "And seeing as how,
according to Widow Ormthwaite, you're making some inquiries about
Baxter, I don't mind telling, 'cause I been mighty puzzled ever since
I see this chap. Well, you see, I landed at Hull from my last
voyage--been out East'ard and back with a trading vessel what belongs
to Hull owners. And before coming home here to Blyth, knocked about a
day or two in that port with an old messmate o' mine that I chanced to
meet there. Now then one morning--as I say, three weeks ago it is,
come this Friday--me and my mate, which his name is Jim Shanks, of
Hartlepool, and can corrob'rate, as they c