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Grant could swear to, there's only one way of proving how they got them. You see where all this leads?" "It looks as if you depended on my evidence for a conviction," said George. Flett nodded. "You saw Mr. Grant attacked and the horses run off. You can identify one man, and we'll connect him with the rest." He took out a paper and handed it to George.
Then they set off at the best pace the team could make, and the cold struck through them when they left the bluff. "Stinging, isn't it?" Edgar remarked. "I couldn't get over earlier; Flett turned up, half frozen, and he kept me. Seems to have some business in this neighborhood, though he didn't say what it is."
"Weel, that's just most amazing!" exclaimed Flett, dipping his hand into the dish and bringing forth another steaming potato. "For our lad, Jack, has taken a strange misliking to the Falcon, and run away to a bigger ship. "Jerry," he asked, turning to the seaman, "did ye hear onything o' young Jack this mornin'?" "Ay," said Jerry. "He sailed yestreen in the Foaming Wave, the lazy rascal."
For, know you this, Captain Flett, the lad's nothing but a murderer, a murderer in cold blood!" "Impossible!" ejaculated the skipper. "When heard you of the lad harming body or beast? But who is it that's murdered, bailie?" "Colin Lothian, the gaberlunzie," replied the magistrate. "Man, you astonish me," exclaimed Flett. "Poor auld Lothian! And when did the thing happen?"
"It's pretty lucky Grierson found you. I can't remember a worse night." George drank the coffee. He still felt heavy and partly dazed; his mind was lethargic, and his hands and feet tingled painfully with the returning warmth. He knew that there was something he ought to tell Flett, but it was a few minutes before he could think clearly.
"And how's business in the islands, Davie?" said Kinlay in an offhand tone. "Fairly weel! fairly weel!" said the captain. "Nothing to complain o', ye ken." "Ay, I see!" said Carver; "no sae weel but ye might do better, eh? I'm thinkin', Davie, ye need to open up a new line o' business among the crofters." "Ah! and what business is that, pilot?" asked Flett.
It's a good opening for you, and you may yet reach the quarterdeck and become an admiral, and fly your own pennant before you're as old as Davie Flett. Let me know as soon as you decide. But if you can't join us, send your friend. Good evening!"
Flett came in and took his place before the magistrates, and gave information as to the time of my leaving the Falcon on Friday night. Mr. Thomson, questioning him, asked: "Do you know of any motive that the lad Ericson might have in committing this crime? Was there any enmity between him and Lothian?" "Certainly not. How could ye think so, Mr. Thomson?" said my skipper.
"Nothing; but John Flett and David Mowat passed our stage yesterday in a canoe, and they told us that the hut of old Liz Rollin has been carried away with her and her father and Winklemann's mother, and they say that her son has been seen in a small canoe rangin' about by himself like a madman searchin' for her."
George did as he was bidden, and sat down again limply when he reached an opening in the wood where a pile of branches, with a kettle suspended over them, had been laid ready for lighting. Presently the others rejoined him. "The fellow can't be moved until we get a wagon," said Flett.
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