"And my own with it, Dent."
"A man you'd never set eyes on before?"
"I certainly never had; but we had quite a long chat first, and he seemed a decent soul enough. I saw no reason to distrust him, at any rate. I know what you're saying to yourself," added Moseley, as Denis smiled sardonically; "but I've been more careful since the lesson I had the night we met. Even if I'm still the worst judge of character in the world, what object could anybody have in tampering with simple letters like ours?"
The ingenuous question gave Denis an idea.
"What was the fellow like—to look at?" he asked in his turn.
"Oh, just a respectable elderly man, not much of the old soldier about him, but the diggings must be crawling with them, and how many look the part?"
"Then how do you know he was one?"
"He told me, of course."
"Had he a beard?"
"That goes without saying." Moseley and Denis were each growing one.