"To the court-room, I suppose," was the bitter rejoinder.
"Not at all. But come now, and I will explain everything on our way to the city. My car is just outside."
How good Jasper felt to be once again out of doors, and he expanded his chest and inhaled great draughts of the fresh air.
"My, that's great!" he exclaimed. "It will take me a long time to get the poison of that cell out of my lungs, and——"
"The bitterness out of your soul, eh?" Mr. Westcote quietly asked, as
Jasper paused.
"Yes, that's what I was going to say. But I'm afraid it will be a much harder thing to do. I've been the sport of fools so long that the bitterness of my soul has become a chronic disease."
"Tut, tut, don't talk that way any more," Mr. Westcote chided. "Jump on board now, and let us be off. I'll tell you something that will sweeten your soul and make life worth living."
To Jasper it seemed almost like a dream as he leaned back and listened to what his companion told him about the net of evidence which had been woven about Sydney Bramshaw. He did not mention Lois in connection with the affair, but related the incidents of the letter, the threat to Betty Bean, and old David's narrow escape from the falling log. He told him also about the two sealed papers, and who David Findley and Sydney Bramshaw really were.
"This is certainly remarkable!" Jasper exclaimed, when Mr. Westcote ceased speaking and took a cigar from his pocket. "But where is Bramshaw now?" he asked. "Surely he has not been allowed to escape."
"Indeed he hasn't. He's in the city jail, that's where he is."