me home to her in
time.

"Well, the long and short of it is that the sergeant came to me on the
verandah with the very pair of boots with which the tracks had been
made; a heel was off one of them; they were too small for Rigden, yet
they were found hidden away in his room. The astounding thing is that
the blessed blackfellow had spotted that the tracks were not made by the
man to whom the boots belonged. He had turned in his toes and walked on
the outside of his feet; it wasn't so with the trail they followed up to
these pines yesterday; and diamond had cut diamond about as neatly as
you could wish to see it done. It was smart of Rigden to run alongside
his horse and make it look as though he were riding alongside the trail;
but it wouldn't do for the wily savage, and I'm afraid the result will
be devilish unpleasant."

There was no fear, however, in the clean-cut and clean-shaven face, nor
did Theodore's tone suggest any possible unpleasantness to him or his.
Moya could have told him so in a manner worthy of himself, but again she
showed some self-restraint, and was content to thank him briefly for
putting her in possession of all the facts.

"Ah!" said Theodore, "I only wish I could do that! You talked a little
while ago about my suspecting the truth; well, I give you my word that I
haven't even yet the ghost of an idea what the real truth can be."

"You mean as to motive?"

"Exactly. Why on earth should he risk his all to save the skin of a
runaway convict? What can that convict be to him, Moya? Or is the sole
explanation mere misplaced, chuckle-headed chivalry?"

"What should _you_ say?" asked Moya quietly.

"I'll tell you frankly," said Theodore at once; "as things were I should
have hesitated, but as things are there's no reason why I shouldn't say
what I think. It's evidently some relation; a man only does that sort of
thing for his flesh and blood. Now do you happen to remember, when
this--I mean to say that--engagement was more or less in the air, that
some of us rather wanted to know who his father was? Not that----"

"I know," Moya interrupted; "I'm not likely to forget it. So that's what
you think, is it?"

"I do; by Jove I do! Wouldn't you say yourself----"

"No, I wouldn't; and no more need you. What are your ideas, by the way,
if this is not the ghost of one? I congratulate you upon it from that
point of view, if from no other!"

Theodore stuck a fresh cigarette between his lips, and struck