You were the only one caught and you
held your tongue like a man; but, all the same, you were used as a cat's-
paw."
"In what way?" Stanley asked softly.
"You all three had revolvers; you all three arranged that they should be
uncharged. Cartridges were put into yours without your knowledge. You held
up your revolver and pressed the trigger, believing it to be empty. The
others knew better. You shot the bank manager and in the stupefaction that
followed you became an easy captive. The others escaped."
Stanley moved a little on his feet. His lips were slightly parted, his
eyes fixed upon Mr. Bundercombe.
"What story is this you are telling me?" he muttered.
"A true one!" Mr. Bundercombe continued.
"Now listen! The total amount in possession of your two confederates when
you went into prison was under a thousand pounds. You heard from them
periodically as struggling paupers. Harding met you out of prison. He was
almost in rags. They were at the end of their resources, he told you. He
gave you a hundred pounds, to procure which, he assured you with tears in
his eyes, they had almost beggared themselves. It was to enable you to
leave the country and make a fresh start.
"You were even grateful.
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