; then laughed as a
man laughs who is suddenly confronted by a good joke.

"Hah! hah! hah!" he let out at the top of his voice. "Good! you're a
born humorist, friend Middlebrook!" He pushed the claret nearer. "Fill
your glass again! Hand it over to the authorities? Why, that would
merit a full-page cartoon in the next number of _Punch_. Good, good!
but," he went on, suddenly becoming grave again, "we were talking of
those scoundrelly Quicks. Of course we--that is, my French friend and
I--have been, and are, suspected of murdering them?"

"I think that is so," I answered.

"Well, that's a very easy point to settle, if it should ever come to
it," he replied. "And I'll settle it, for your edification, just now.
Noah and Salter Quick were done to death, one near Saltash, in
Cornwall, the other near Alnwick, in Northumberland, several hundreds
of miles apart, about the same hour of the same evening. Now, my
friend and I, so far from being anywhere near either Saltash or
Alnwick on that particular evening and night, spent them together at
the North Eastern Railway Hotel at York. I went there that afternoon
from London; he joined me from Berwick. We met at the hotel about six
o'clock; we dined in the hotel; we played billiards in the hotel; we
slept in the hotel; we breakfasted in the hotel; the hotel folks will
remember us well, and our particulars are duly registered in their
books on the date in question. We had no hand whatever in the murders
of Noah and Salter Quick, and I give you my word of honor--being under
the firm impression that though I am a pirate, I am still a
gentleman--that neither of us have the very slightest notion who had!"

Miss Raven made an involuntary murmur of approval, and I was so much
convinced of the man's good faith that I stretched out my hand to him.

"Mr. Baxter!" said I, "I'm heartily glad to have that assurance from
you! And whether I'm a humorist or not, I'll beg you once more to take
my advice and give up that loot to the authorities--you can make a
plausible excuse, and throw all the blame on that bank-manager fellow,
and take my word for it, little will be said--and then you can devote
your undoubtedly great and able talents to legitimate ventures!"

"That would be as dull as ditch-water, Middlebrook," he retorted with
a grin. "You're tempting me! But those Quicks--I'll tell you in what
fashion there is a connection between their murder and ourselves, and
one that would need some e