"Very tired," moaned the feverish lips.
Then August put his head upon his hand and regarded the peddler with a
look of anxious inquiry.
"Did you bring a horse?"
"No, I didn't," answered the peddler abruptly.
"Then you have deceived me," and the sick youth sank back with a groan.
"Nothing of the kind," answered Shanks. "I've learned some tremendous
news since I went from here this morning."
"News?" "Yes. Twon't be safe for you to go back to the city."
"Not safe? What do you mean?"
"This is what I mean," said the peddler, sinking to his knees and
adjusting the black patch carefully over his eye. "The whole burgh is in
a state of excitement over the discovery of the murderer of Victoria
Vane."
"He has been discovered then?"
"Wait. A squad of police went to your house this morning and hunted high
and low for you. The papers say that August Bordine murdered the
Ridgewood girl, and that he fled last night from the city to escape
arrest. What do you think of that?"
"It's all false."
"I suppose so, but if you should fall into the hands of the officers just
now, you wouldn't be given half chance for your life.
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