"I don't know. There's no trace of the man. It's queer where he's got to; I fancy he's dead—fallen down a mine, or been starved out."
"That's about it," said Brack. "Fancy looking for him round here! Seems a bit soft to me."
"You take a lot of interest in this man," said Carl eying him closely.
"No more than I do in any man who makes a fight for liberty."
"Would you let 'em all loose on Dartmoor?" sneered Carl.
"I'd chance it if there were any innocent men among 'em."
"There are none."
"There's one I know of."
"Who?"
"My brother Bill."