old shot gun, but the Hairy Man didn't take any notice. The old chap was pretty shaky on it."
"Drink, I s'pose," grunted Andy contemptuously
"No, it wasn't drink. They reckoned he'd been 'hatting' it too long. They've got him at the police station."
"What did he say the Hairy Man was like?" asked Jim Bentley.
"Oh, the usual thing," said Jack. "'Bout as tall as a man and twice as broad, arms nearly as long as himself, big wide mouth with grinning teeth and covered all over with red hair."
"Why, that's just what my uncle said he was like," exclaimed Andy Page, suddenly taking great interest in the conversation. He was passing in with some firewood to stick under a pot in which he was boiling a piece of salt beef; but he stood stock still and stared at Jim Bentley, with the blank, breathless expression of a man who has just heard astounding news.
"Did your uncle see the Hairy Man, Andy?" inquired Dave Regan feebly. He felt too sick to take much interest.
"Yes," said Andy, staring at Jack with great earnestness. "Didn't I tell you? He was drivin' home up the pass to Dead Man's Gap, where he lived then, and he seen the Hairy Man, bundlin' off among the rocks."
Andy paused impressively, and stared at Jack.
"And what did your uncle do, Andy?" asked Jack, with a jerky little cough.
"He stood up in the cart and hammered into the
