Bassett was astounded when he saw Dick's signature on the hotel
register. It destroyed, in one line, every theory he held. That Judson
Clark should return to Norada after his flight was incredible. Ten years
was only ten years after all. It was not a lifetime. There were men in
the town who had known Clark well.

Nevertheless for a time he held to his earlier conviction, even fought
for it. He went so far as to wonder if Clark had come back for a tardy
surrender. Men had done that before this, had carried a burden for
years, had reached the breaking point, had broken. But he dismissed
that. There had been no evidence of breaking in the young man in the
office chair. He found himself thrown back, finally, on the story of the
Wasson woman, and wondering if he would have to accept it after all.

The reaction from his certainty in the cabin to uncertainty again made
him fretful and sleepless. It was almost morning before he relaxed on
his hard hotel bed enough to sleep.

He wakened late, and telephoned down for breakfast. His confusion had
not decreased with the night, and while he got painfully out of bed and
prepared to shave and dress, his thoughts were busy. There was no doubt
in his mind that, in spite of the growth of the town, the newcomer would
be under arrest almost as soon as he made his appearance. A resemblance
that could deceive Beverly Carlysle's brother could deceive others, and
would. That he had escaped so long amazed him.