"Did you see him?"

"I think it was the same man, if that's what you mean. I knew something

queer was going on, after that, and I watched her. She went out at night

more than once. Then I told Donaldson there was somebody hanging round

the place, and he set a watch."

"Fine. Now we'll go to the night Lucas was shot. Was the Thorwald woman

there?"

"She had started home."

"Leaving Mrs. Lucas packing alone?"

"Yes. I hadn't thought of that. The Thorwald woman heard the shot and

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came back. I remember that, because she fainted upstairs and I had to

carry her to a bed."

"I see. Now about the revolver."

"I located it the first time I looked for it. Donaldson and the others

had searched the billiard room. So I tried the big room. It was under

a chair. I left it there, and concealed myself in the room. She, Mrs.

Lucas, came down late that night and hunted for it. Then she hid it

where I got it later."

"I wish I knew, Melis, why you didn't bring those facts out at the

inquest."

"You must remember this, sir. I had been with Mr. Clark for a long time.

I knew the situation. And I thought that he had gone away that night

to throw suspicion from her to himself. I was not certain what to do. I

would have told it all in court, but it never came to trial."

Bassett was satisfied and fairly content. After the Frenchman's

departure he sat for some time, making careful notes and studying them.

Supposing the man Melis had seen to be Clifton Hines, a good many things

would be cleared up. Some new element he had to have, if Gregory's

story were to be disproved, some new and different motive. Suppose, for

instance...

He got up and paced the floor back and forward, forward and back. There

was just one possibility, and just one way of verifying it. He sat down

and wrote out a long telegram and then got his hat and carried it to the

telegraph office himself. He had made his last throw.

He received a reply the following day, and in a state of exhilaration

bordering on madness packed his bag, and as he packed it addressed it,

after the fashion of lonely men the world over.

"Just one more trip, friend cowhide," he said, "and then you and I

are going to settle down again to work. But it's some trip, old

arm-breaker."




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