"No one else knows," I assured him.
He smiled. I could see that he was too uplifted to really care very much about such trivialities as I had my mind upon.
"You don't advise me to stay and brazen it out, then?" he said, quizzically.
"On the contrary, I advise you to clear out. I don't see the ghost of a chance for you if the law gets its hands upon you."
"Then a judicial error can never be corrected?"
"The only thing that would give us any excuse for reopening the case would be some new evidence having a bearing on the situation. Have you any reason to suppose that you can unearth any significant facts now which you could not discover when the affair was fresh in the memory of everyone?"
He shook his head. "No. That looks hopeless, I must admit. You advise me, then, to bury myself somewhere beyond reach of the extradition laws?"
"Exactly. And, considering everything, I can imagine worse fates."
He smiled. "So can I," he said musingly. For a man with a price on his head, he seemed singularly happy. It was clear that the letter in his pocket was the most potent writ in the world just then.
Then he put dreams aside, and gave me specific directions as to certain matters of business that he wished looked after. It was on toward eleven o'clock before our talk was finished, and he rose to his feet.