"In them fogs, and with them dratted water-holes, and him knawing nothing," said the yokels, each and severally, "he be dead, surely."
Trent did not agree with popular opinion.
"Herries was half a sailor, and accustomed to fogs," he argued to Browne, "in some way he could take care of his skin, and would not run away to meet death."
"He ran away to escape death," replied Browne dryly. "However, should he come to me, I shall certainly persuade him to surrender."
"The man would be doubly a fool to come to you, and then give himself up," said the Inspector energetically.
"Not if he is innocent."
"His flight looks like innocence."
Browne shrugged his shoulders.
"Herries evidently lost his head for the moment. When he thinks over things he will return to prove that he has nothing to do with the crime."
"I doubt his being such a fool," said Trent gloomily. "You have no idea of his whereabouts, I suppose?" he ended anxiously.