sailor's legs was made of wood.
With a start Kent noticed that it was made of East Indian sandalwood.

"I've just come from Java," said Kelly quietly, as he sat down.

Kent nodded. "I see it all now," he said. "Throgton, I wronged you. We
should have known it was a sailor with a wooden leg from Java. There is
no other way."

"Gentlemen," said Peter Kelly, "I've come to make my confession. It is
the usual and right thing to do, gentlemen, and I want to go through
with it while I can."

"One moment," said Kent, "do you mind interrupting yourself with a
hacking cough?"

"Thank you, sir," said Kelly, "I'll get to that a little later. Let me
begin by telling you the story of my life."

"No, no," urged Throgton and Kent, "don't do that!"

Kelly frowned. "I think I have a right to," he said. "You've got to hear
it. As a boy I had a wild, impulsive nature. Had it been curbed----"

"But it wasn't," said Throgton. "What next?"

"I was the sole relative of my uncle, and heir to great wealth. Pampered
with every luxury, I was on a footing of----"

"One minute," interrupted Kent, rapidly analysing as he listened. "How
many legs had you then?"

"Two--on a footing of ease and indolence. I soon lost----"

"Your leg," said Throgton. "Mr. Kelly, pray come to the essential
things."

"I will," said the sailor. "Gentlemen, bad as I was, I was not
altogether bad."

"Of course not," said Kent and Throgton soothingly. "Probably not more
than ninety per cent."

"Even into my life, gentlemen, love entered. If you had seen her you
would have known that she is as innocent as the driven snow. Three years
ago she came to my uncle's house. I loved her. One day, hardly knowing
what I was doing, I took her----" he paused.

"Yes, yes," said Throgton and Kent, "you took her?"

"To the Aquarium. My uncle heard of it. There was a violent quarrel. He
disinherited me and drove me from the house. I had a liking for the sea
from a boy."

"Excuse me," said Kent, "from what boy?"

Kelly went right on. "I ran away as a sailor before the mast."

"Pardon me," interrupted Kent, "I am not used to sea terms. Why didn't
you run _behind_ the mast?"

"Hear me out," said Kelly, "I am nearly done. We sailed for the East
Indies--for Java. There a Malay pirate bit off my leg. I returned home,
bitter, disillusioned, the mere wreck that you see. I had but one
thought. I meant to kill my uncle."

For a moment a hacking cough interrupted Kelly. Kent