“These people were your friends?”
“Well, the woman was.”
“I understand. That made it more awkward.”
“Oh, lots of things made it awkward. You see I had broken in a window when I heard her screams. Besides, every one wanted to know how I came to be passing along an unfrequented road at one o’clock in the morning. In short, I saw that there was only one thing for me to do, if I wanted to save my precious neck. I broke jail one night, and slipped over the Canadian border, and from there managed to get to Central America.”
“You still had some friends left, I see,” said Overton with a smile. “I suppose it is for legal advice that you have come to me.”
“No, you are wrong,” answered Vickers. “I have not finished my story. I came north with a real desire to settle down—with a real enthusiasm for a northern home. I thought I should like to jolly an old father, and a pretty cousin, for the rest of my life.”
“How did you know she was pretty?”
“Well, I wasn’t mistaken, was I? But what happened? Lee turned out to be a rotten bad lot. I have been very much disappointed in Bob Lee, Mr. Overton. He is not a pleasant fellow to impersonate, I can tell you.”
“His record is not a desirable one, I believe,” answered the lawyer.
“I don’t know whether you have heard that, among other things, he stole the small capital left to his cousin,” Vickers went on.