"The young lady?"
"Yes."
"Who is she?"
"Miss Dawson, daughter of Robert Dawson, the banker, whom Black Harry shot during the train hold-up last night. Dawson tore the mask from the young robber's face, and she saw it. A few moments ago she declared that I was the wretch who shot her father."
The girl heard his words, and she started forward, panting fiercely:
"You are! You are! I will swear to it with my dying breath! I saw your face plainly last night, and I can never forget it. You are the murderous ruffian from whose face my father tore the mask!"
Professor Scotch was fairly staggered, but he quickly recovered, and swiftly said:
"My dear young lady, I assure you that you have made the greatest mistake of your life. I know this boy—I am his guardian. It is not possible that he is Black Harry, for——"
"Were you with him last night?"