"Come on," persisted Mr. Addicks. "We're all friends together. What's the idea, Shaw?"
Fudge threw a final appealing glance at Perry and plunged: "It's none of our business, sir, only I—er—I happened to see the notice in the express office and"
"What notice?"
"About the train-robber. And then we—we came in the other day and couldn't help seeing the scar and—and knowing."
"What scar, Shaw?"
"On your arm, sir; the white scar just like the description says."
"The white Oh!" Mr. Addicks nodded comprehendingly.
"We haven't breathed a word to anyone, Mr. Addicks, but I guess they got on to you. And we thought you ought to know."
"Of course." Mr. Addicks' countenance held puzzlement and some amusement, and he was silent a moment. At last: "Let's have this just right now," he said. "You suspect me of being this train-robber and you think the police are after me. Is that it?"
"Y-yes, sir."
"The description of the robber fits me, does it?"
"Why, yes, sir, all except the height. I guess
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