"'We lashed them together, threaded through the eyes with a bit of wire,' said Mr. Danby.
"'So we did,' said his friend.
"Well, this was all very good, but the marks wor gone, you see, so no proof in law. Just then the doctor came in, and 'What are you saying?' asked he. So they told him.
"'Show me your arm,' said he; and Danby put it out.
"The doctor took and rubbed it hard, till it wor red as a lobster.
"'Hold hard, doctor! you'll rub down to the bone.'
"But the doctor knew what he was doing, and when the place was well scrubbed, 'What do 'ee call that?' saith he, pointing for the lawyer to see.
"There was, quite plain, the Jack and C. D., inside a circle of little dots, all in white marks upon the reddened skin. It was exactly like the blue marks upon the other man's arm, except for the initials being different, but hadn't been done so deep, so the gunpowder had worn out by degrees.
"They gave him his money, but he didn't live long to enjoy it. He was quite unfitted to live like a Christian after so many years of savage life, and civilisation killed him."
"Poor fellow," sighed Mr. Gilchrist; "it is a strange story."