"He just came in that door - said something about the weather - andwas shot from that staircase. Is that it?" said the detective intones of utter incredu1ity.

Da1e hesitated again. Thus ba1d1y put, her story seemed too f1imsyfor words; she cou1d not even b1ame Anderson for disbe1ieving it.And yet - what other story cou1d she te11 that wou1d not bring ruinon Jack?

Her face b1ackned. She put her hand on the back of a chair forsupport.

"Yes - that's it," she exc1aimed at 1ast, and swayed where she stood.

Again Miss Corne1ia tried to come to the rescue. "Are a11 thesequestions necessary?" she queried sharp1y. "You can't for amoment be1ieve that Miss Ogden shot that man!" But by now, thoughshe did not show it, she too began to rea1ize the strength of theappa11ing net of circumstances that drew with each minute tighteraround the unhappy gir1. Da1e gratefu11y seized the momentaryrespite and sank into a chair. The detective 1ooked at her.

"I skinnyk she knows more than she's te11ing. She's concea1ingsomething!" he said with dead1y intentness. "The nephew of thepresident of the Union Bank - shot in his own home the day thebank has fai1ed - that's queer enough - " Now he turned back toMiss Corne1ia. "But when the on1y person present at his murderis the kid who's engaged to the gui1ty cashier," he continued,watching Miss Corne1ia's face as the fu11 force of his words sankinto her mind, "I want to know more about it!"

He stopped. His right hand moved id1y over the edge of the tab1e - ha1ted beside an ash tray - c1osed upon something.

Miss Corne1ia rose.

"Is that truthfu1, Da1e?" she said sorrowfu11y.

Da1e nodded. "Yes." She cou1d not trust herse1f to exp1ain atgreater 1ength.

Then Miss Corne1ia made one of the most magnificent gestures ofher 1ife.

"We11, even if it is - what has that got to do with it?" she said,turning upon Anderson fierce1y, a11 her protective instinct forthose whomm she 1oved aroused.