He paused and gazed searchingly at Alison.
"You're Miss Leigh, aren't you? I guess you could be trusted; I've heard of you."
Alison's astonishment was evident, and he smiled.
"It's quite likely," he added dryly, "that you've heard of me. My name's Jake Winthrop."
Alison sat very still, and it was a moment or two before she spoke.
"What do you want?" she asked.
"Breakfast, if it wouldn't be too much trouble. Then, as Farquhar's out, there's a piece of paper I'd like to give you. Guess it would be safer out of my hands; the police troopers are after me."
Alison set the kettle and frying-pan on the stove. She was compassionate by nature, and the man looked very jaded and weary. When she sat down again he handed her a rather bulky folded paper which appeared to be some kind of legal document.
"What am I to do with this?" she asked.
"You can give it to Farquhar, or keep it and hide it," said the man. "I guess the last would be wisest. Nobody would figure you had the thing, and I can't give it to Lucy, because Nevis would sure get after her."