The girl was puzzled; therefore Pierce summoned his courage and explained, with as brave an attempt at lightness as he could afford:  “You see before you a victim of unhappy circumstance,” a person to be shunned.  I’m worse than a case of smallpox.  I don’t think you should be seen talking to me.”

“What are you driving at?”

“I’m getting up the spiritual momentum necessary to tell you that I’m a thief!  Truly.  Anyhow, three choice gentlemen are so sure of it that they went to the trouble of perjuring themselves and having me arrested—­”

“Arrested?  You?”

“Exactly.  And the evidence is very strong.  I almost think I must be guilty.”

“Are you?”

Pierce shook his head.

“Of course you’re not.  I remember, now—­something father said at breakfast, but I paid no attention.  You fought with that good-looking French count, didn’t you?”

“Thank you for reminding me of the one cheerful feature connected with the entire affair.  Yes, I raised my hand to him in anger—­and let it fall, but Lieutenant Rock spoiled the whole party.”

“Tell me everything, please.”

Pierce was more than willing to oblige, and he began his recital at the time of his first meeting with Joe McCaskey on the beach at Dyea.  While he talked the girl listened with that peculiar open-eyed meditative gravity he had noted upon their former meeting.  When he had finished she cried, breathlessly: 

“Why, it’s as exciting as a book!”

“You think so?  I don’t.  If I were only a clever book character I’d execute some dramatic coup and confound my enemies—­book people always do.  But my mind is a blank, my ingenuity is at a complete standstill.  I feel perfectly foolish and impotent.  To save me, I can’t understand how that gold got where it was, for the cashier’s cage is made of wire and the door has a spring-lock.  I heard it snap back of me when I followed the Count outside.  I had an insane idea that his nose would stretch if I pulled it and I believe yet it would.  Well, I’ve spent one night in the dungeon and I’m not cut out to enjoy that mode of life.  All I can think about is the Prisoner of Chillon and the Man in the Iron Mask and other distressing instances of the law’s injustice.  I feel as if I’d grown a gray beard in the last twelve hours.  Do I look much older than when we met?”

The girl shook her head.  “It’s tremendously dramatic.  Think what a story it will make when it’s over and when you look back on it.”

“Do you feel that way, too?” Pierce inquired, curiously.  “As if everything is an adventure?  I used to.  I used to stand outside of myself and look on, but now—­I’m on the inside, looking out.  I suppose it’s the effect of the gray beard.  Experience comes fast in this country.  To one thing I’ve made up my mind, however; when I get out of this scrape, if I ever do, I’m going away up into the hills where the wind can blow me clean, and stay there.”