d Van Dusen a little, even though he wore heavy-soled
shoes. He wondered that the barefooted Ichabod experienced no discomfort
to all appearance. As a matter of fact, the old fisherman's soles were
horny, tough as any leather.

As the two journeyed on, the detective gratified his natural curiosity
concerning things round-about by questioning his companion. He was
especially interested in the small bands of wild ponies that appeared
from time to time. These, like himself, were inquisitive, and often
would stand gazing with curious eyes, until the men were within a
hundred yards of them, before they would show their heels and go
cantering off through the deep sand.

Ichabod, though he answered at length all the questions put to him by
the detective, kept up a train of thinking apart. He showed the results
of it presently when he spoke.

"Do ye know, Mr. Detective," he began, "I've been a-thinkin' a whole
week 'bout that poor cuss what me an' you are a-tryin' to run down? Do
ye know, from what that pretty gal says, I don't say as how that feller
orter go to a jail house? Thar's a heap o' good left in that man yit.
Jest think what he done out thar in the Sound a-savin' o' the kid! That
wa'n't the act o' no beast--not by a damned sight!"

"Yes, Captain," Van Dusen answered, "I'll admit that was not the act of
a beast. But don't you think that a man becomes worse than a beast when
he allows the craving for drugs to destroy mind and body and to prompt
him to acts such as those of which this degenerate has been guilty?"

"But, Mr. Detective," the fisherman argued, "that man was led astray.
Seems as if, 'cordin' to my way o' thinkin', this case is a heap like
that o' a poor gal what's led off when she's young. It don't make no
difference what happens arterward. The folks, women 'specially, won't
give her no credit, no matter how hard she tries to go right. They jest
naturally kain't see no good in her. Ye see, I used to know a gal like
that. But she was smart. She up an' moved clear out o' the country, an'
started life all over ag'in. It's right-smart hard to believe, but, sir,
that gal married a preacher, an' worked a durn sight harder fer God than
a heap o' the ones that she up and left behind did! Them poor fools are
still a-talkin' 'bout her. Now, Mr. Van Dusen, do ye exactly have to
arrest Garnet if we find him?"

"Well," the detective answered, "since he's a murderer any one has the
right to arrest him. For my part,