“That will depend upon whether the other robber is captured or not. It will probably be tried at this term of court.”
While the judge and I were conversing, a gentleman entered the room and pushed his way to my side. It was Mr. Markham, and he shook me warmly by the hand.
“I have heard what you have done, Stone,” he said. “Allow me to congratulate you.”
Then his eyes ran over those gathered around and rested upon Mr. Norton.
“Hullo, Norton Bixby, where did you come from?” he demanded. “I thought you were in the New York State Penitentiary.”
I listened in amazement.
What did Mr. Markham mean by addressing Mr. Norton as Norton Bixby? To me it was an intensely interesting question, and I sprang forward before the latter could reply to the question that had been propounded.
“Is this man not Mr. Enos Norton?” I asked breathlessly.
“Enos Norton,” repeated Mr. Markham. “Why, no. His name is Bixby, Norton Bixby, and I had him arrested three years ago in New York for stealing some unregistered bonds from my office.”