"To have you shot?"
"How do I know?" He was shot himself.
"By whom?"
"I can't say. I was lying in a stupor when it happened."
"Drugged--with opium?" hinted Jarman.
"Yes. Did you know that Starth--"
"All along." Jarman placed the tips of his fingers together. "See here, Frank, I know Miss Starth very well. She lives here with an old lady called Mrs. Perth. Their cottage is only a stone's throw away from my diggings. I met the brother there in the long ago, and--"
"And introduced him to me. I wish you hadn't."
"It's too late now, seeing that the man's dead, to raise objections. I never approved of Walter Starth. A bad lot--a very bad lot. He never liked you. I don't know why. But I didn't think it would come to this."
"Jarman"--Frank started from his seat--"you don't suppose--"