Then the farmer turned upon the boy, as though he had nerved himself up to a certain point, and continued:
"You were pretty close up on him at the time he dropped the last bundle, I suppose, Frank?"
"Oh! yes, sir."
"And could see him plainly too?" continued Mr. Baxter, eagerly.
"Why, that was easy enough. He looked around several times, too. Yes, I would certainly know Bill Brockholt again if I ever met him."
"You see that smoke was still half blinding me. I could only make out a flying figure that seemed to be clothed in a striped suit. Could you describe him to me, Frank, after a fashion?" went on the farmer; and Frank wondered more than ever why he wished to ascertain facts that after all should interest him little, since no great damage had been done.
"Why, he had a smooth face, and his hair was cropped close to his head, to begin with. You know they always keep the prisoners that way, for many reasons?" he started in with.
"Yes, I've seen them. I went through the place once to see—but that doesn't matter. That was two years ago. Go on, please. What about his face, Frank?"
"Why, it was a hard one as near as I could make out. The description said that he was a real desperate character, and I guess it hit him off right well. Excuse me from meeting Bill in the dark anywhere, and alone," Frank went on.
"Of course you didn't happen to be close enough to see his eyes, or whether they were blue?" asked the other, almost holding his breath.