He stopped with a wistful look at Holmes, who stood outwardly
attentive, but with little thought to waste on Joe Yare. The old
coal-digger drummed on the fire-plug uneasily.

"Myself, 't was for Lois's sake I thowt on it. To speak
plain,--yoh'll mind that Stokes affair, th' note Yare forged?
Yes? Ther' 's none knows o' that but yoh an' me. He's safe,
Yare is, only fur yoh an' me. Yoh speak the wured an' back he
goes to the lock-up. Fur life. D' yoh see?"

"I see."

"He's tryin' to do right, Yare is."

The old man went on, trying not to be eager, and watching
Holmes's face.

"He's tryin'. Sendin' him back--yoh know how THAT'll end. Seems
like as we'd his soul in our hands. S'pose,--what d' yoh think,
if we give him a chance? It's yoh he fears. I see him
a-watchin' yoh; what d' yoh think, if we give him a chance?"
catching Holmes's sleeve. "He's old, an' he's tryin'. Heh?"

Holmes smiled.

"We didn't make the law he broke. Justice before mercy. Haven't
I heard you talk to Sam in that way, long ago?"

The old man loosened his hold of Holmes's arm, looked up and down