Baggin's hand suddenly shot out; and, grasping his collar, tore open the frayed jacket.
The man wrenched himself free with an imprecation.
"Take your hand from that knife," commanded Baggin. "I will do you no harm. Where did you get that shirt?"
The beggar scowled and drew the threadbare coat across his chest.
"I bought it," he said.
"That's a lie," said Baggin. "It is a prisoner's shirt; you are an escaped convict."
The man made no answer.
"From Ceuta?"
Again no reply.
"What was your sentence? Answer."