“I surrender,” the captured one said sullenly. “You ought to have arrested me before. I’d give back the deer, if I could; but I sold it last night, and that’s the last of it.”
“That will do,” the officer said severely.
Up to this time the writer has studiously masked his ignorance by invariably speaking of this man as an officer of the law. It seems fated, however, that his ignorance should sooner or later be manifested; and now he declares that he is so utterly ignorant of Law, in all its forms, that he does not know what that man was—he knows only that he was an officer of the law. But for the benefit of those who are still more ignorant, it may be stated that he is almost positive the man was neither a juryman, nor a conveyancer, nor a plaintiff.
The hunters now held a short conversation, and it was decided that Mr. Lawrence and Henry should stay to hear what Hiram Monk had to say for himself, but that the others should go on with Will and Steve to the surgeon’s.
The officer of the law thought it might be necessary for him to stay in his official capacity, and so he took a seat and listened, while he fixed his eyes on Jim Horniss.
And the confession he heard was worth listening to.
The hut was soon cleared of all save the five; and the six first introduced to the reader were again together, and on their way to the surgeon’s.
“Well,” said Will, “it seems I have lost my deer; but I have the comforting thought of knowing that the rascal will receive the punishment he deserves.”
“How strange it all is,” said Marmaduke, “that your uncle should stumble on the solution of his mystery when he least expected it; and that you could not find the thief when you looked for him, but as soon as you quit, we made straight for his house.”
“No,” Steve corrected good-humoredly, “that isn’t it; but as soon as I took to playing the part of a hero of romance, ‘events came on us with the rush of a whirlwind.’”