Sheriff Bates had left the Lunar Rogue on his death bed in jail. When a messenger came to announce, “Smith is gone”, Bates responded, “Poor fellow, what time did he die”? Shock must have set in with the reply, He’s not dead; he has escaped.
To accept the fact that he had been taken in by a rogue was one thing, but to lose face in the community must have been worse. The Sheriff’s reputation for sound judgement and integrity was in jeopardy.
People were quick to point out that the Sheriff had taken an uncommon interest in the prisoner. Hadn’t he arranged for Henry’s personal effects to be brought up from Saint John and then assisted in the sale of those goods to provide the prisoner with legal fees? Hadn’t he tried in vain to locate the stranger Henry had claimed sold him the horse he had been accused of stealing? Could it be that Bates, the jailer and Henry were in cahoots?
With gossip racing through the community, Sheriff Bates sent search parties out in all directions. The Sheriff and his deputy took the route to Nova Scotia and rode hard all night without success. In the morning, the Sheriff started back to Kingston leaving his deputy to travel another 40 miles in pursuit.
People began to fear the Lunar Rogue was long gone. At about the same time, it was discovered that Henry had spent the previous night not 10 miles away. He had slept till noon and then relieved a local resident’s home of a number of personal articles before continuing on his way. The Sheriff was not having a good day!