The Bowbells tribune., 1900-02-16
him as we'll to where I had left my old

him as we'll to where 1 had left my old
horse.
II turned the contents of the hut pref
ty we'll upside down, keeping a sharp
locke for letters or other papers that
might be Of Importance to him; and l
found f7O in notes, in an empty tobacco
tin. but not a scrap of writing. SO
rolled up flannel shirt and pair Of
socks in his blankets. bumped the swag
and led him off, leaving the hut to take
care Of itself. found the old horse al
most where had hobbled him. got my
new companion on his back, ana made
tracks for Cooktown.
"There my comrade (whom l called
Ned for want of a better name) re-
NAMED in hospital Until his arm was
fairly OH the mend; but could get
precious little hope from the doctors
as to his intellect One Of them advised
voyage to London to consult some
specialist; ard this idea, somehow,
took such a hold of Ned that he left me
no peace until 1 consented to the trip.
He had hazy notion that he had lots
of friends in the old country. who
would welcome him eagerly, although
he could not remember a single one OF
their names. Besides, had a bit OF
money put by. and he could we'll afford
the Journey out of his f1O.
$50, the end of it was that we bought
two steerage passages, and reached
London safe and sound. l hate doing
nothing, and 1 returned to the show
business, as you see, doctor. I've con-
suited two doctors about Ned. They
both agreed he ought to be treated in
an asylum, and recommended thelr
own particular institutions. But that
amt good enough. Ned and are too
good pals now to be parted by the
walls Of a madhouse. And he's just as
likely to recover his memory living with
me as cOo,,ed up with q lot Of lunatics.
isn't he, sir?'
"Most certainly he isl! replied, em'
phatically.
sGod bless you for that, sir!' cried
Dicky, joyously. "He's a sight better
than he was, and believe that, one OF
these days. everything will come back
to him as clearly as before he fell down
the shaft
II see no reason why it should not.
assented, encouragingly. meanwhile,
you are, suppose. still without any
clue to his identity?"
That's so, sir, unless one can call the
initials of a forgotten sweetheart q
| clue. I saw them on his arm."
Sweetheart, Ned?" asked.
eyes he replied, coloring up, but
I can't remember her name Well, 1
didn't see much use in advertising for
an unknown girl, with such common
initials as L. A., and so let her slide"
"L. A., repeated, musingly. ''rhat's
an odd coincidence Done in red and
black and surrounded by wreath?
"Quite right" he assented, looking at
me. inuuiringly. "It's q common de-
sign enough"
Il daresay,' rejoined. II last saw 1t
upon the arm of man who was muir
dered, not long ago. and who also came
from Cooktown. That's what made
the thing somewhat remarkable. Could
you show me your friends right arm
without awakening him?'
"Rather!" confirmed Dicky. 'Hc
sleeps like top"
He took me to the adjoining BEDROOM
and barred his sleeping companions
arm.
"Uncover his chest!' whispered,
eagerly.
With a look of mingled surprise ana
expectation, he obeyed. The comet
dence was complete. Upon the right
breast was q rudely drawn log bearing
the letters r. N.
I could have cried out in the great
ness of my amazement; but kept my
head. and merely beckoned Dicky to
follow me into the other ROOM.
"Can you safely leave these two for
o,,o,,t hoTf an holr md accOmDany me
to the Strand?' asked.
"To be sure can" he replied.
promptly. 'They're right enough here.
Does it concern him? lie added, eager
ly.
eyes" replied, though it may turn
out false scent, after all. We shah
soon know"
AS fast as well-bribed driver could
take us, we sped to the Adelphi and
fastened up to my rooms. do what l
could to keep my head cool, my hand
trembled as I unlocked my desk, ana
sought out a copy Of the portrait sent
from Cooktown.
"Therew I exclaimed, handing it to
Dicky. "That man bore precisely the
same tattoo-marks as your friend Ned'
and he, too, came from Queensland.
Do you recognize him?'
"Recognize him?" echoed Dicky. Il
should say soy Why, that's Nat Rains
forth!"
CHAPTER XIX.