"He said I would be convicted—of that… crime!" The words seemed to burn his throat, for he put, his hand up as if to, choke further utterance.
"A crime you never committed," Jack ventured, without having the slightest knowledge of what it might mean to his listener.
"Can you prove it? Can you prove it!" gasped the man and for the moment Jack was frightened. He felt he was again in the presence of the mad hermit of Fern Island.
"Of course we can prove it. My sister has gone now for the absolute proof!" Jack was daring more and more each second. "But you spoke of Breslin. You said you knew him."
"I do! Where is he! Breslin always believed in me, and he could save me now," replied the man.
"Well, listen and try to be calm, or Laurel will not let me talk further to you," Jack cautioned. "Last night you mentioned the name of a wealthy banker, for whom my best friend works. This friend is a mechanical genius and he runs a racer boat for Brendon Breslin, the banker!"
"Where? Here? On these shores?" and the man was panting.
"Only a short distance off. But I tell you, Mr.—?"
"Starr," volunteered the man.
"Mr. Starr, if you will only get strong enough you can do a great deal for yourself and Laurel. The night that you fell a man was on this Island. Did you know Jim Peters?"