“'Yes.'
“'You were mates with him, once, Out Back?'
“'I was.'
“'You know Drew's hand-writing?'
“'I should think so.'
“He laid a leaf from a pocketbook on top of the steps. I read the message written in pencil:
“'To Jack Mitchell.—We were mates on the track. If you know anything of my affair, don't give it away.—J. D.'
“I tore the leaf and dropped the bits into the paint-pot.
“'That's all right, Doctor,' I said; 'but is there no way?'
“'None.'