The Amateur Cracksman
"But I don't know myself," I complained. "Did the mare carry you all the way back to Melbourne?"
"Every rod, pole or perch! I had her well seen to at our hotel, and returned her to the doctor in the evening. He was tremendously tickled to hear I had been bushed; next morning he brought me the paper to show me what I had escaped at Yea!"
"Without suspecting anything?"
"Ah!" said Raffles, as he put out the gas; "that's a point on which I've never made up my mind. The mare and her colour was a coincidence—luckily she was only a bay—and I fancy the condition of the beast must have told a tale. The doctor's manner was certainly different. I'm inclined to think he suspected something, though not the right thing. I wasn't expecting him, and I fear my appearance may have increased his suspicions."
I asked him why.
"I used to have rather a heavy moustache," said Raffles, "but I lost it the day after I lost my innocence."
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