'You don't expect me to give a pal away, do you?'
'As that pal has given you away for the last five years, it seems to me you need not show very much consideration for him.'
'I'm not so sure he did.'
'I am; but never mind that point. Colonel Jim Baxter shot Wyoming Ed and killed him. Why?'
'See here, my friend, you're going a little too fast. I didn't say that.'
He reached somewhat defiantly for the bottle from Canada.
'Pardon me,' I said, rising quietly, and taking possession of the bottle myself, 'it grieves me more than I can say to restrict my hospitality. I have never done such a thing in my life before, but this is not a drinking bout; it is a very serious conference. The whisky you have already taken has given you a bogus courage, and a false view of things. Are you going to tell me the truth, or are you not?'
Jack pondered on this for a while, then he said:—
'Well, sir, I'm perfectly willing to tell you the truth as far as it concerns myself, but I don't want to rat on a friend.'
'As I have said, he isn't your friend. He told you to take the name of Wyoming Ed, so that he might blackmail the father of Wyoming Ed. He has done so for the last five years, living in luxury here in London, and not moving a finger to help you. In fact, nothing would appal him more than to learn that you are now in this country. By this time he has probably received the news from the prison doctor that you are dead, and so thinks himself safe for ever.'