“You're forgetting again. Why should they be after you now, after ten years?”
“I see. I can't get it, you know. I keep listening for them.”
Bassett too was listening, but he kept his fears to himself.
“Why did you do it?” he asked finally.
“I was drunk, and I hated him. He married a girl I was crazy about.”
Bassett tried new tactics. He stressed the absurdity of surrendering for a crime committed ten years before and forgotten.
“They won't convict you anyhow,” he urged. “It was a quarrel, wasn't it? I mean, you didn't deliberately shoot him?”
“I don't remember. We quarreled. Yes. I don't remember shooting him.”
“What do you remember?”
Dick made an effort, although he was white to the lips.