to myself. I wake up talking of him, out of the little sleep I do get. I'll tell you the fact—if Potts is here six weeks longer, and let to finish this canvas, my influence in Slocum County is gone. I might as well give up and move on to another town myself, where my dreadful secret is unknown."
"Nonsense! But what can Billy Durgin do?"
"Well, I'm desperate, that's all. And one night Billy had me meet him up by the cemetery—he came disguised in long black whiskers—and he told me that Potts was James Carruthers, better known to the police of two continents as 'Smooth Jim,' wanted for robbing the post-office at Lima, Ohio. Of course that's nonsense. Potts hasn't the wit to rob a post-office. But I didn't have the heart to tell Billy so. I told him, instead, that this was the chance of his life; to fasten to Potts like an enraged leech, and draw out every secret of his dark past. You can't tell—Billy might find something to pry him into the next county with, anyway."
"He certainly looked charged with information this afternoon. He was fizzing like an impatient soda fountain. But why did he follow me?"
"Well, that might be Billy's roundabout way of getting to me. The other time he shadowed Marvin Chislett to get a message to me. If you're a detective, you can't do things the usual way, or all may be lost."
At that instant a low whistle sounded in our ears, a small missile was thrown over the evergreen hedge,
