“I left Hagan in Beartown to look into matters further while I set out to hunt for the fellow who had limped off in the woods, after turning the tables so cleverly on Mr. Buxton. Without any reason that I could explain I formed the suspicion that this member of the gang was you, Noxon (I believe that is your travelling name). It was represented that he was hurt much worse than I am glad to say was the fact. I inquired at each house along the road between here and Beartown and hit it at last.
“Now,” added the visitor as if seated with his intimate friends, “since you tell me to talk freely in Mike’s presence, I shall do so. Are you ready, Noxon, to go to your home with me?”
“Begging yer pardin, Mr. Calvert, I beg to say that has been sittled. The dearest hope of Noxy’s heart is to return to his parents.”
“Is that so?” asked the detective of the young man.
“I would give my right hand,” he solemnly replied, holding it up, “if I could go back three months in my life and have things as they were.”
“You can’t do that as regards time, but it will bring sunshine and happiness to your loved ones when the wandering boy comes to their waiting arms. All being true, we have got to travel the ‘rocky road to Dublin.’ You have committed a serious crime against the United States laws, and if convicted nothing can save you from a long term in prison.”
“Then what hope is there for me?”
“You haven’t been convicted yet, but I won’t deny that you are in serious danger of it.”
“How shall I escape?”
“I thought that over while on the road from Beartown. This, I believe, is your third essay as a burglar. Am I right?”