happen to know more than I know now, and
it would be my duty--whether I'm officially on the case or not--to
arrest you.

"But now you're free. It's your life and liberty for mine--maybe not
quite an even exchange, since you'd have more than even chances if it
came to a trial, I suppose. But it's the best I can do. I'm giving
you this chance. I'd be a dirty dog if I didn't. But remember this,
Spotty! I give you only one chance, just as you gave me--just as you
took one and saved me. If I see you again, and this thing hangs over
you, I may have to pull you up."

"All right, Colonel. That's a square deal. But don't worry. You
won't see me if I see you first. I didn't dream you'd be after me so
soon for the job I only done last night. I'd oughter cleared out, but
I was waitin' for a pal, an--Oh, well, it was just like you to come
around early."

"Man, don't you understand? I'm not after you! I didn't for an
instant think you had a hand in it until just now. And I'm not
admitting, even yet, that you did have. I haven't done a tap of work
on the case, and I'm not going to. My advise to you is to get out of
town before I may get into this thing against my will. Skip, Spotty!
It's the only way I can pay my debt to you!"

The colonel made as though to hold out his hand to the freckle-faced
man opposite him, and then changed the motion of his arm and picked up
his glass.

"Skip, Spotty!" he murmured again.

"All right, Colonel, I will! I know when the goin's good. So long.
And--thanks!"

Spotty, still talking through the corner of his mouth, gave a quick
glance around the room and slid out of a side door like an eel,
disappearing into the rain and mist.

For some little time the colonel sat before the glasses, in which the
cracked ice was rapidly melting. He, too, made little rings of water
on the table.

"I wonder--" he mused, "I wonder if I did right."

His hand sought his pocket, and came out empty.

"I guess I must have left it on the bed," he murmured. "But I can
remember it."

Then, as though reading from the little green book, he recited:

"But if the old salmon gets to the sea . . . and he recovers his
strength, and comes next summer to the same river, if it be
possible. . ."

"Spotty is a veritable salmon," mused the colonel, "even if he is
speckled like a trout. I wonder, if he gets into the sea of New York,
if I'll ever be able to land him?

"Well, he gave me my life, and