Garth waved the two excited detectives away. As he led Randall across the verandah he was provokingly conscious of something missing. When he had opened the door and taken his captive into the hall, he realized all at once what it was. Mrs. Randall's pitiful and chaotic crying no longer disturbed the quiet house. He noticed, too, that Dr. Redding had descended the stairs and leant against the newel post.

"Who's that?" Redding asked.

"h.e.l.lo, Redding!" Randall said easily.

"Randall! They've got you!"

Randall's contented smile persisted.

"Mrs. Randall?" Garth asked in a low tone. "She's quieter now? Dr.

Randall would like to see her."

Redding stepped forward swiftly.

"He can see her," he sneered, "if he's got the courage. She's dead."

He swung in a fury on Randall.

"Two murders on your soul! That's what it comes to. What were you thinking of, man? You'll go to the chair for this."

Randall staggered against the wall where he leant, covering his face with his hands.

"My only human witness!" he mumbled.

Garth knew it would be a kindness to get him out of this house, but first he did his duty with a strong distaste.

"You'd better tell us," he said. "Say something. It might help you in the end."

Randall lowered his hands. His face worked.

"I'll say nothing--nothing," he cried fiercely.

He stretched out his hands to Garth.

"No handcuffs," Garth said gruffly. "We might go in one of those automobiles."

Randall stumbled forward. He groped about the hat-rack.

"My hat! Where's my hat? Do as you wish. But not Treving's car. Good G.o.d! You wouldn't take me to jail in Treving's car!"

Garth was restless the next day. The public, in common with the police department and the district attorney's office, looked upon the case against Randall as proved and, to all purposes, disposed of. But Garth, walking along upper Fifth Avenue in the afternoon, could not resist stopping at an expensive florist's and demanding a rose for his b.u.t.ton-hole. When it was brought he asked the price, and, a good deal disconcerted, handed over the money.

For some time he gazed at the colorful, fragrant flower which swayed on its graceful stem. Then, with an absent air, he placed it on the marble stand and moved towards the door.

The clerks glanced at each other, amused.

"You've forgotten your rose, sir," one of them said.

"No matter," Garth replied. "I've had my money's worth."

He called at the inspector's flat after dinner. The inspector was still at the office, but Nora commented on his restlessness immediately.

"What are you working on, Jim? Of course you're through with the Elmford case."

"Not quite."

He faced her, fighting back the quick emotions in which her proximity always involved him. He loved her too much to risk demanding at random a fixed understanding. Moreover, with this case on his mind, it was clearly not the hour.

"I've arranged for a number of subpoenas to be served in the morning,"

he said. "The servants have left the house. Your father has arranged to call his men in. In an hour or so the house will be empty.

Nora--I--can't stay long this evening."

"Jim! What's on your mind? It's a clear case."

"Yes," he answered. "That's why Jones and the other flat-foot your father sent out yesterday didn't search the neighborhood far enough to find the stone building where Randall hid. It's why when I arrested him I didn't look it over either. The arrest at the time seemed enough. But he didn't act like a man caught with the goods. Your father says he's clever. Maybe he is, but I wonder if he is to that extent. It's been the trouble all along. It's too clear a case. I talked to his lawyers this afternoon. He's refused to put in any defence."

"Isn't that proof, Jim, that he knows he hasn't a chance?"

He fumbled, almost unconsciously, with the b.u.t.ton-hole in the lapel of his coat.

"It might mean," he answered, "that he was protecting somebody else, and that makes one wonder if there mightn't be something in the house--letters, perhaps, in that bedroom I've never had a chance to explore--something he would like to have destroyed."

"Trust your instinct, Jim."

He arose smiling.

"That's what I've arranged to do."

"Then you're going out there to-night?"

"Yes."

He hesitated, but the temptation was too strong.

"How would you like a taxi-ride to Elmford?"

"Jim, you talk like a millionaire."

"If anything comes of it," he said, "the city will pay. If nothing does I'll look an awful fool, so I'd rather you didn't ask any questions now.

But if you want to come--I know you're game."

She laughed and got her hat and coat.

So they drove to the lonely patch of woods near the Elmford gate where Garth instructed the driver to wait for them. He led Nora, warning her not to speak, through the obscurity to the entrance. There he paused, and, after a moment, whistled on a low, prolonged note.

Almost immediately the sound of voices came to them and the sc.r.a.ping of feet in the gravel. Two blacker patches scarcely outlined themselves against the black shrubbery.