"I saw the paper," I answered simply.
He covered his face with his hands, and his whole frame shook with a strong man's emotion. "Do you—believe?" he asked hoarsely, without looking at me.
"Assuredly not," I said.
He gave a sigh of thankfulness. "I have been tracked like a dog all over the world," he murmured brokenly, "but I have reached the end of the tether now."
"But why did you run away?" I asked hurriedly. "Surely an innocent man only courts disaster by flight."
The troopers were now near at hand. I could hear their sergeant talking to some of the diggers scarcely a hundred yards from where we stood. English Bob recovered himself with an extreme effort of will. "I may have been foolish," he said quietly, "but things looked very black against me, and—and the disgrace would have killed my old mother."
I did not reason further. "There may be a way of escape yet," I said, seized with an uncontrollable impulse. "We are both very much alike. I'll talk to the sergeant."
"No, no!" he cried, " I cannot allow——"
"Why, man," I interrupted impatiently, "it's your only chance. They'll find out their mistake soon enough."
"Good morning, boys," came a jovial voice from the timber, and its owner, a stalwart New Zealander, bearing the emblem of his office on his arm, rode forward alone. We responded to this cheery salutation gloomily.