"Say, do you really believe--?" began Orlando without agitation, but
with a sudden sense of his own false position.

"It ain't a matter of belief," the other declared. "If there's an
inquest, I've got to tell what I've seen. You know that, don't you?"

"That's all right," replied Orlando. "You've got to tell what you've
seen, and so have I. I guess the truth will out. Come, let's move him
on to Tralee. We'll lay him down in the bottom of the wagon, and I'll
lead his horses with a halter. . . . No," he added, changing his
mind, "you lead my horses, and I'll drive him home."

A moment afterwards, as the procession made its way to Tralee, Scarsdale
said to himself:

"He must have nerves like iron to drive Mazarine home, if he killed him.
Well, he's got them, and still they call him Giggles as if he was a silly
girl!"




CHAPTER XVII

THE SUPERIOR MAN

Students of life have noticed constantly that moral distinctions are not
matters of principle but of certain peremptory rules found on nice
calculations of the social mind. In the field of crime, responsibility