But of course poor Bond might have meant to run straight after he
fell in love with Jenny, till Owlet tackled him and encouraged him to try
and murder me. Nobody will ever know what his game at Oakshotts was, for
he died before he'd played it. Anyway, he was gone, and all that mattered
to me remained to get my neck out of the noose if it could be done.
And it was done, though more by the act of God than any particular
cleverness of man. But, primed with what I'd told him, Mr. Bates got up
Owlet's sleeve and, little by little, wormed out the truth. And Owlet,
who'd been on the razor edge over the job for a good bit with a mind
tottering, lost his nerve at last and gave himself away. He'd got in some
queer fashion to believe Bates was his friend and on his side, for these
deep detective chaps have a way often to show friendship to them they most
suspect; and so it happened; for Joshua let it out at last, finding the
other knew very near as much about it as he did. And then the darbies were
on him, and soon after they were off me.
He'd done it with a madman's cleverness, to free his girl and get her
back; and he went to a criminal lunatic asylum for his bit of work and
bides there yet. And as for Jenny, I left the rest to her and didn't lift
a finger to draw her to me no more. She came, however, and felt the Lord
had saved not only me alive, but her also.
Pages:
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329