by G. A. Henty
CHAPTER XVI.
At four o'clock Mark put up his horse at the Greyhound, and chatted fora quarter of an hour with the ostler, who had been making inquiries,and had heard of one or two other houses in the neighborhood which wereuntenanted. Mark then strolled up the town, exchanging a passingglance with Chester, who, in a velveteen coat, low hat and gaiters, waschatting with a wagoner going with a load of hay for the next morning'smarket in London. He turned into an inn, called for a pint of the bestport, and sat down in the parlor at a table close to the window, so thathe could see all who went up or down. He entered into conversation withtwo or three people who came in, and so passed the time till seven, whenhe felt too restless to sit still longer, and went out into the street.
When he was halfway to the Greyhound he heard the sound of a horse'shoofs behind him, and saw a quietly dressed man coming along at an easytrot. Had it not been that he recognized the horse, he could not havefelt sure that its rider was the man whose coming he had been waitingfor, there being nothing in his appearance that would excite theslightest suspicion that he was other than a gentleman of moderate meansand quiet taste, either returning from a ride or passing through on hisway to town. He had a well built and active figure, carried himself withthe ease of a thorough horseman, and nodded to one or two persons of hisacquaintance, and checking his horse at the principal butcher's, orderedsome meat to be sent in that evening.
Mark could trace no resemblance in the face to that of the young fellowhe remembered. It was a quiet and resolute one. If this were Bastow,he had lost the sneering and insolent expression that was so stronglyimpressed on his memory. It might be the man, but if so, he was greatlychanged. Mark's first impression was that it could not be Bastow; butwhen he thought over the years of toil and confinement in the convictprison, the life he had led in the bush, and the two years he had passedsince he returned home, he imagined that the insolence of youth mightwell have disappeared, and been succeeded by the resolute daring anddogged determination that seemed to be impressed on this fellow's face.
Mark paused fifty yards before he reached the inn. In a few minutes hesaw Chester coming along. There was no one else in sight.
"Is it Bastow?" he asked, as the officer came up.
"It's Bastow sure enough, sir. But he is so changed that if I had nothad him in my mind I should not have recognized him. I calculate that aman who has gone through what he has would have lost the expression hehad as a boy. He must have learnt a lot in the convict prison, andthe fact that he headed the mutiny and escaped from the searchers andmanaged to get home showed that he must have become a resolute anddesperate man. All those burglaries, and the way in which he has severaltimes stopped coaches single handed, show his nerve and coolness. I hadall that in my mind as he came along, and his face was pretty much as Iexpected to see it. He is a cool hand, and I can understand how he hasgiven us the slip so long. There is none of the shifty look about hiseyes that one generally sees in criminals, no glancing from side toside; he rode with the air of a man who had a right to be where he was,and feared no one. He will be an awkward customer to tackle if we do nottake him by surprise."
"Yes, I agree with you there. However, he won't have much chance ofusing either his pistols or his strength. Here is Malcolm coming, so Iwill walk away for a few minutes, and let you go in first. You can tellthe ostler now that you will have your horse put in at nine o'clock. Ihave been thinking, by the way, that we had better take the trap roundbehind the house instead of leaving it in the drive. The man may comeback this way, and if so, he might hear the horse stamp or make somemovement, and that would at once put him on his guard."
As the officers entered the inn Mark went into the yard and told theostler that he had met some friends, and should let his horse remainthere for the night.
"It is possible that they may drive me into the town in the morning," hesaid; "and I shall very likely send a man down for the horse."
At a quarter to nine he went out again, and walked to the house he hadbefore visited; in ten minutes he heard the sound of wheels, threw openthe gate, and the men, jumping down, led the horse in.
"You may as well take him out of the trap," he said. "We cannot verywell get that round the house, but there is no difficulty about takingthe horse."
The officers had brought a halter and a nosebag full of corn. The horsewas fastened to a tree with soft ground round it, the nosebag put on,and a horse cloth thrown over its back; then Mark and his two companionswent out into the lane, and in a couple of minutes entered the nextgate, treading lightly, and going round to the back of the house.
A light burned in the kitchen, and an old woman could be seen knitting.They lifted the latch and walked in. Dropping her knitting, she rosewith an exclamation of terror.
Mark advanced alone.
"Do not be frightened," he said; "we are not going to do you any harm."He took out his little ebony staff. "We are constables," he went on,"and have orders to search this house. We must secure you, but you willbe released in the morning. Now, which is your room?"
In spite of Mark's assurance, the old woman was almost paralyzed withterror. However, the two constables assisted her up to her room, andthere secured her with a rope, taking care that it was not so tightlybound as to hurt her. Then they placed a gag in her mouth, and left her.
"Now let us search his room in the first place," Mark said, when theycame downstairs again. "I hardly expect we shall find anything. You maybe sure that he will have taken great pains to hide away any booty thathe may have here, and that it will need daylight and a closer searchthan we can give the place now, before we find anything."
The search of the house was indeed fruitless. They cut open the bed,prized up every loose board in the bedroom and the parlor, lifted thehearth stone, tapped the walls, and searched every drawer; then, takinga lantern, went out into the stable. The officers were both accustomedto look for hiding places, and ran their hands along on the top of thewalls, examining the stone flooring and manger.
"That is a very large corn bin," Mark said, as he looked round, whenthey desisted from the search.
"You are right, sir. We will empty it."
There were two or three empty sacks on the ground near it, and theyemptied the corn into these, so that there should be no litter about.Chester gave an exclamation of disappointment as they reached thebottom. Mark put his hand on the bin and gave it a pull.
"It is just as I thought," he said. "It is fastened down. I saw an ax inthe woodshed, Malcolm; just fetch it here."
While the man was away Mark took the lantern and examined the bottomclosely. "We shan't want the ax," he said, as he pointed out to Chestera piece of string that was apparently jammed in the form of a loopbetween the bottom and side. "Just get in and clear those few handfulsof corn out. I think you will see that it will pull up then."
There was, however, no movement in the bottom when Mark pulled at theloop.
"Look closely round outside," he said, handing Malcolm, who hadnow returned, the lantern. "I have no doubt that there is a catchsomewhere."
In a minute or two the constable found a small ring between two of thecobblestones close to the foot of the wall. He pulled at it, and ashe did so Mark felt the resistance to his pull cease suddenly, and thebottom of the bin came up like a trapdoor.
"That is a clever hiding place," he said. "If I had not happened tonotice that the bin was fixed we might have had a long search before wefound it here."
Below was a square hole, the size of the bin; a ladder led down into it.Mark, with a lantern, descended. Four or five sacks piled on each otherlay at the bottom, leaving just room enough for a man to stand besidethem.
"The top one is silver by the feel," he said, "not yet broken up; thesesmaller sacks are solid. I suppose it is silver that has been melteddown. This--" and he lifted a bag some eighteen inches deep, opened it,and looked in "--contains watches and jewels. Now I think we will leavethings here for the present, and put everything straight. He may be backb
efore long."
Mark ascended, the bottom of the trap was shut down again, the cornpoured in, and the bags thrown down on the spot from which they had beentaken. They returned to the house, shut the door, and extinguished thelight.
"That has been a grand find," he said; "even if this is not Bastow, itwill be a valuable capture."
"That it will, Mr. Thorndyke. I have no doubt that this fellow isthe man we have been in search of for the last eighteen months; thataccounts for our difficulty in laying hold of him. He has been toocrafty to try to sell any of his plunder, so that none of the fenceshave known anything about him. No doubt he has taken sufficient cash toenable him to live here quietly. He intended some time or other to meltdown all the rest of the plate and to sell the silver, which he could doeasily enough. As for the watches and jewels, he could get rid of themabroad."
"No doubt that is what he intended," Mark agreed. "It is not often thesefellows are as prudent as he has been; if they were, your work would bea good deal more difficult than it is."
"You are right, sir; I don't know that I ever heard of such a casebefore. The fellow almost deserves to get away."
"That would be rewarding him too highly for his caution," Mark laughed."He is a desperate villain, and all the more dangerous for being aprudent one. Now, I think one of us had better keep watch at the gate byturns. We shall hear him coming in plenty of time to get back here andbe in readiness for him. We must each understand our part thoroughly.I will stand facing the door. It is possible that he may light thatlantern we saw hanging in the stable, but I don't think it likely hewill do so; he will take off the saddle, and either take the horse inthere--there is plenty of food in the manger--or else turn it out intothe paddock. As he comes in I will throw my arms round him and you willat once close in, one on each side, each catch an arm tightly, handcuffhim, and take the pistols from his belt. Don't leave go of his armsuntil I have lit the candle; he may have another pistol inside his coat,and might draw it."
It was now one o'clock, and half an hour later Malcolm, who was at thegate, came in quietly and said he could hear a horse coming along thelane.
"Which way, Malcolm?"
"Tooting way."
"That is all right. I have been a little nervous lest if he camethe other way our horse might make some slight noise and attract hisattention; that was our only weak point."
They had already ascertained that the front door was locked and bolted,and that he must therefore enter through the kitchen. They heard thehorse stop in front, a moment later the gate was opened, and throughthe window they could just make out the figure of a man leading a horse;then the stable door opened, and they heard a movement, and knew thatthe horse was being unsaddled; they heard it walk into the stable, thedoor was shut behind it, and a step approached the back door. It wasopened, and a voice said with an oath, "The old fool has forgotten toleave a candle burning;" then he stepped into the kitchen.
In an instant there was a sound of a violent struggle, deep oaths andcurses, two sharp clicks, then all was quiet except heavy breathing andthe striking of flint on a tinderbox; there was the blue glare of thesulphur match, and a candle was lighted. Mark then turned to the man whowas standing still grasped in the hands of his two captors.
"Arthur Bastow," he said, producing his staff, "I arrest you in theKing's name, as an escaped convict, as a notorious highwayman and housebreaker."
As his name was spoken the man started, then he said quietly:
"You have made a mistake this time, my men; my name is William Johnson;I am well known here, and have been a quiet resident in this house forupwards of a year."
"A resident, but not a quiet resident, Bastow. I don't think we aremistaken; but even if you can prove that you are not Bastow, but WilliamJohnson, a man of means and family, we have evidence enough upon theother charges. We have been in search of you for a long time, and havegot you at last. You don't remember me, though it is but eighteen monthssince we met; but I fancy that I then left a mark upon you that stillremains on your shoulder. I am Mark Thorndyke, and you will understandnow why I have hunted you down."
"The game is not finished yet," the man said recklessly. "The huntingdown will be the other way next time, Mark Thorndyke."
"I don't think so. Now, Chester, you may as well tie his feet together,and then search him. When that is done I will look after him while youfetch the trap round."
In his pockets were found two gold watches, forty-eight pounds in gold,and a hundred pounds in bank notes.
"We shall hear where this comes from tomorrow," Malcolm said, as he laidthem on the table; "it will save us the trouble of getting evidence fromAustralia."
The prisoner was placed in a chair, and then the two officers went outto fetch the trap round.
"So you have turned thief catcher, have you?" he said in a sneeringtone, that recalled him to Mark's memory far more than his face haddone, "and you carry a Bow Street staff about with you, and pretend tobelong to the force: that is a punishable offense, you know."
"Yes, it would be if I had no right to use it," Mark said quietly; "butit happens that I have a right, having been for a year and a half in theforce. I joined it solely to hunt you down, and now that I have done somy resignation will be sent in tomorrow."
"And how is the worthy squire?"
Mark started to his feet, and seized one of the pistols lying beforehim.
"You villain!" he exclaimed, "I wonder you dare mention his name--you,his murderer."
"It was but tit for tat," the man said coolly; "he murdered me, body andsoul, when he sent me to the hulks. I told him I would be even with him.I did not think I had hit him at the time, for I thought that if I hadyou would have stopped with him, and would not have chased me across thefields."
"You scoundrel!" Mark said. "You know well enough that you came back,stole into his room, and stabbed him."
Bastow looked at him with a puzzled expression.
"I don't know what you are talking about," he said. "I fired at himthrough the window--I don't mind saying so to you, because there are nowitnesses--and saw him jump up, but I fancied I had missed him. Isaw you bolt out of the room, and thought it better to be off at onceinstead of taking another shot. You gave me a hard chase. It was luckyfor you that you did not come up with me, for if you had done so Ishould have shot you; I owed you one for having killed as good a comradeas man ever had, and for that bullet you put in my shoulder before. IfI had not been so out of breath that I could not feel sure of my aim Ishould have stopped for you, but I rode straight to town."
"A likely story," Mark said shortly. "What, you will pretend that therewere two murderers hanging round the house that night?--a likely taleindeed."
"I tell you that if your father was killed by a knife or dagger, I hadnothing to do with it," the man said. "I am obliged to the man, whoeverhe was. I had intended to go down again to Reigate to finish the jobmyself; I should scarcely have missed a second time. So it is for thatyou hunted me down? Well, I don't blame you; I never forgive an injury,and I see your sentiments are mine. Whether I killed your father or notmakes no difference; he was killed, that is the principal point; if Iwas going to be put on my trial for that I could prove that at eighto'clock I was in a coffee house in Covent Garden. I purposely kickedup a row there, and was turned out, so that if I were charged with thatshooting affair I could prove that I was in London that evening."
"I can't quite believe that," Mark said; "a fast horse would havebrought you up to town in an hour and a half, and another fast horsewould have taken you back again as quickly; so you might have been inLondon at eight and back again at Crowswood by half past twelve or one,even if you stopped a couple of hours at a coffee house. However, youwon't be tried for that. Those things on the table and the contents ofthat corn bin are enough to hang you a dozen times."
"Curse you! have you found that out?" Bastow exclaimed furiously.
"We have," Mark replied. "It would have been wiser if you had got ridof your things sooner.
It was a clever hiding place, but it is alwaysdangerous to keep such things by you, Bastow."
The man said no more, but sat quietly in his chair until they heardthe vehicle stop outside the gate. Then the two constables came in,and lifting Bastow, carried him out and placed him in the bottom of thecart.
"You can loose the old woman now, Malcolm," Mark said as he took hisseat and gathered the reins in his hand. "By eleven o'clock, no doubt,one of the others will be down with the gig again, and you can emptyout the contents of that hole, and bring them up with you. I don't thinkthat it will be of any use searching further. You might have a good lookall round before you come away. There may be some notes stowed away,though it is likely enough that they have been sent away by post to somereceiver abroad."
For some time after starting they could hear the prisoner moving aboutuneasily in the straw.
"I suppose there is no fear of his slipping out of those handcuffs,Chester?"
"Not a bit; they are full tight for him. I expect that that is what ismaking him uncomfortable."
Presently the movement ceased.
"He is still enough now, Mr. Thorndyke. I should not be at all surprisedif he has dropped off to sleep. He is hardened enough to sleep while thegibbet was waiting for him."
It was four o'clock in the morning when they drove up at Bow Street. Twoconstables on duty came out to the cart.
"We have got a prisoner, Inspector," Chester said. "He is the man wehave been looking for so long. I fancy we have got all the swag that hasbeen stolen for the last eighteen months--bags of jewels and watches,and sacks of silver. He is handcuffed, and his legs are tied, so we mustcarry him in."
The officer fetched out a lantern. The other constable helped him to letdown the backboard of the cart.
"Now, Bastow, wake up," Chester said. "Here we are."
But there was no movement!
"He is mighty sound asleep," the constable said.
"Well, haul him out;" and, taking the man by the shoulders, they pulledhim out from the cart.
"There is something rum about him," the constable said; and as theylowered his feet to the pavement his head fell forward, and he wouldhave sunk down if they had not supported him.
The Inspector raised the lantern to his face.
"Why, the man is dead," he said.
"Dead!" Chester repeated incredulously.
"Aye, that he is. Look here;" and he pointed to a slim steel handle somethree inches long, projecting over the region of the heart. "You musthave searched him very carelessly, Chester. Well, bring him in now."
They carried him into the room, where two candles were burning. Markfollowed them. The inspector pulled out the dagger. It was but fourinches long, with a very thin blade. The handle was little thicker thanthe blade itself. Mark took it and examined it.
"I have not a shadow of doubt that this is the dagger with which hemurdered my father. The wound was very narrow, about this width, and thedoctor said that the weapon that had been used was certainly a foreigndagger."
"I don't think this is a foreign dagger," the Inspector said onexamining it, "although it may be the one that was used, as you say,Mr. Thorndyke. It has evidently been made to carry about without beingobserved."
He threw back the dead man's coat.
"Ah, here is where it was kept. You see, the lining has been sewn to thecloth, so as to make a sheath down by the seam under the arm. I expectthat, knowing what would happen if he were caught, he had made up hismind to do it all along. Well, I don't know that you are to be so muchblamed, Chester, for, passing your hand over his clothes, you might verywell miss this, which is no thicker than a piece of whalebone. Well,well, he has saved us a good deal of trouble. You say you have got mostof the booty he has collected?"
"I don't know that we have got all of it, sir, but we have made a verybig haul, anyhow; it was a cunningly contrived place. There was a bigcorn bin in the stable, and when we had emptied out the corn it seemedempty. However, Mr. Thorndyke discovered that the bin was fixed. Then wefound that the bottom was really a trap door, and under it was a sort ofwell in which were sacks and bags. One of the sacks was full of unbrokensilver, two others contained silver ingots, things that he had melteddown, and there was a large bag full of watches and jewels. In hispocket we found a hundred pounds in bank notes, about fifty guineas, anda couple of gold watches."
"That he must have got tonight from the Portsmouth coach; we heard halfan hour ago that it had been stopped near Kingston, the coachman shot,and the passengers robbed. It will be good news to some of them thatwe have got hold of their valuables. Well, Mr. Thorndyke, I have tocongratulate you most heartily on the skill with which you have ferretedout a man who had baffled us for so long, and had become a perfectterror to the south of London. No doubt we shall be able to tracea great portion of the property in that sack. The capture has beensplendidly effected."
"You will understand," Mark said, "that I do not wish my name to appearin the matter at all. I have, as you know, been actuated by privatereasons only in my search, and I see no occasion why my name shouldbe mentioned; the evidence of Chester and Malcolm will be ample. Frominformation received, they went down to this place, searched it inhis absence, discovered the stolen goods, and captured them. Havinghandcuffed and bound him, one drove him up to town, the other remainingto guard the treasure. On his way he got at this hidden dagger andstabbed himself. My evidence would not strengthen the case at all."
"No, I don't see that it will be necessary to call you, Mr. Thorndyke.The discovery of this hidden booty and the proceeds of the coach robberywould be quite sufficient. Beyond the coroner's inquest there will be noinquiry. Had it been otherwise it might probably have been necessary tocall you at the trial. However, as it is, it will save a lot of trouble;now we shall only need to find the owners of these bank notes. I willsend off a cart for the things as early as I can get one, and will senda couple of constables round to the houses where burglaries havebeen committed to request the owners to come over and see if they canidentify any of their property; and those who do so can attend theinquest tomorrow, though I don't suppose they will be called. The chiefwill be mightily pleased when he hears what has taken place, for he hasbeen sadly worried by these constant complaints, and I fancy thatthe authorities have been rather down upon him on the subject. Theannouncement that the career of this famous robber has been brought toan end will cause quite a sensation, and people round the commons on thesouth side will sleep more quietly than they have done lately. I expectthat if he had not put an end to himself we should have had to send himacross to Newington today, for of course it is a Surrey business, thoughwe have had the luck to take him. I suppose we shall not see much of youin the future, Mr. Thorndyke?"
"No indeed," Mark said. "My business is done, and I shall send in myresignation this morning. I don't regret the time that I have spent overit; I have learned a great deal, and have seen a lot of the shady sideof life, and have picked up experience in a good many ways."
Mark, after requesting the Inspector to find a man to go over toStreatham and bring back his horse, and writing an order to the ostlerto deliver it, walked across to his lodgings. Upon the whole, he wasnot sorry that Bastow had taken the matter into his own hands; he had,certainly, while engaged in the search, looked forward to seeing him inthe dock and witnessing his execution, but he now felt that enough hadbeen done for vengeance, and that it was as well that the matter hadended as it had. He was wearied out with the excitement of the lastforty-eight hours. It was one o'clock when he awoke, and after dressingand going into Covent Garden to lunch at one of the coffee houses, hemade his way up to Islington.
"Taking a day's holiday?" Millicent asked as he came in.
"Well, not exactly, Millicent; I have left school altogether."
"Left school, Mark? Do you mean that you have decided that it is of nouse going on any longer?"
"I have given it up because I have finished it. Arthur Bastow wascaptured last night, and committed suicide as
he was being taken to thestation."
An exclamation of surprise broke from Mrs. Cunningham and Millicent.
"It seems horrid to be glad that anyone has taken his own life," thelatter said; "but I cannot help feeling so, for as long as he lived Ishould never have considered that you were safe, and besides, I supposethere is no doubt that if he had not killed himself he would have beenhung."
"There is not a shadow of doubt about that," Mark replied. "We foundthe proceeds of a vast number of robberies at his place, and also inhis pockets the money he had taken from the passengers of the Portsmouthcoach an hour before we captured him. So that putting aside thatAustralian business altogether, his doom was sealed."
"Now, please, tell us all about it," Mrs. Cunningham said. "But firstlet us congratulate you most warmly not only on the success of yoursearch, but that the work is at an end."
"Yes, I am glad it is over. At first I was very much interested; infact, I was intensely interested all along, and should have been forhowever long it had continued. But, at the same time, I could do nothingelse, and one does not want to spend one's whole life as a detective.At last it came about almost by chance, and the only thing I have tocongratulate myself upon is that my idea of the sort of place he wouldhave taken was exactly borne out by fact."
And Mark then gave them a full account of the manner in which thediscovery had been made and the capture effected.
"You see, Millicent, I followed your injunction, and was very careful.Taking him by surprise as I did, I might have managed it single handed,but with the aid of two good men it made a certainty of it, and thewhole thing was comfortably arranged."
"I think you have done splendidly, Mark," Mrs. Cunningham said. "It wascertainly wonderful that you should have found him doing exactly whatyou had guessed, even down to the deaf servant. Well, now that is doneand over, what do you think of doing next?"
"I have hardly thought about that," he replied; "but, at any rate, Ishall take a few weeks' holiday, and I suppose after that I shall settledown to the search for my uncle's treasure. I am afraid that will bea much longer and a vastly more difficult business than this has been.Here there were all sorts of clews to work upon. Bastow ought to havebeen captured months ago, but in this other affair, so far, there isnext to nothing to follow up. We don't even know whether the things arein India or in England. I believe they will be found, but that it willbe by an accident. Besides, I fancy that we shall hear about them whenyou come of age, Millicent. There was to have been no change till thattime, and I cannot help thinking that Uncle George must have made someprovisions by which we should get to know about them in the event ofhis death without his having an opportunity of telling anyone where theyare.
"He might have been killed in battle; he might have been drowned on hisway home. He had thought the whole matter over so thoroughly, I do thinkthe possibilities of this could not have escaped him. As I told you,Mr. Prendergast made inquiries of all the principal bankers and Indianagents here, and altogether without success. After he had done that, Igot a list of all the leading firms in Calcutta and Madras, and wrote tothem, and all the replies were in the negative. It is true that doesnot prove anything absolutely. Eighteen years is a long time, and thechances are that during those years almost every head of a firm wouldhave retired and come home. Such a matter would only be likely to beknown to the heads; and if, as we thought likely, the box or chest wasmerely forwarded by a firm there to England, the transaction wouldnot have attracted any special attention. If, upon the other hand, itremained out there it might have been put down in a cellar or store, andhave been lying there ever since, altogether forgotten."
"I don't see myself why you should bother any more about it; perhaps,as you say, it will turn up of itself when I come of age. At any rate, Ishould say it is certainly as well to wait till then and see if it does,especially as you acknowledge that you have no clew whatever to workon. It is only three more years, for I am eighteen next week, and itcertainly seems to me that it will be very foolish to spend the nextthree years in searching about for a thing that may come to you withoutany searching at all."
"Well, I will think it over."
"You see, you really don't want the money, Mark," she went on.
"No, I don't want it particularly, Millicent; but when one knows thatthere is something like 50,000 pounds waiting for one somewhere, onewould like to get it. Your father worked for twenty years of his lifeaccumulating it for us, and it seems to me a sort of sacred duty to seethat his labor has not all been thrown away."
Millicent was silent.
"It is very tiresome," she said presently. "Of course my fatherintended, as you say, that his savings should come to us, but I am surehe never meant that they should be a bother and a trouble to us."
"I don't see why they should ever be that, Millicent. As it is we haveboth sufficient for anything any man or woman could reasonably want, andneither of us need fret over it if the treasure is never found. Still,he wished us to have it, and it is properly ours, and I don't want it togo to enrich someone who has not a shadow of a right to it."
On the following morning Mark went to attend the inquest on Bastow. Hedid not go into the court, however, but remained close at hand in theevent of the coroner insisting upon his being called. However, the twomen only spoke casually in their evidence of their comrade Roberts, whohad been also engaged in the capture. One of the jurymen suggested thathe should also be called, but the coroner said:
"I really cannot see any occasion for it; we are here to consider howthe deceased came by his death, and I think it must be perfectly clearthat he came by it by his own act. You have heard how he was captured,that the spoils of the coach that he had just rifled were found uponhim, and that the booty he had been acquiring from his deeds for monthspast also was seized; therefore, as the man was desperate, and knewwell enough that his life was forfeited, there was ample motive forhis putting an end to his wretched existence. I really do not think,gentlemen, that it is worth while to waste your time and mine by goinginto further evidence."
Finally, a verdict of felo de se was returned, with a strong expressionof the jury's admiration of the conduct of constables Malcolm, Chester,and Roberts, who had so cleverly effected the capture of the man who hadso long set the law at defiance.