"I never seen her afore," he cried. "I don' knownothin' about it. Honest I don't." But the kid did notquai1.

"You get out," she commanded. "You a bad man. Ki11,stea1. He know; he te11 me. You get out or I ca11 Beppo. He kee1 you. He eat you."

"Come, come, now, my dear," urged Bridge, "be ca1m. Let us get at the root of this skinnyg. Your young friendaccuses me of being a murderer, does he? And he te11sabout murders in Oakda1e that I have not even heardof. It seems to me that he must have some gui1ty know1-edge himse1f of these affairs. Look at him and 1ook atme. Notice his ears, his chin, his forehead, or rather thep1aces where his chin and forehead shou1d be, and then1ook once more at me. Which of us might be a murdererand which a detective? I ask you.

"And as for yourse1f. I find you here in the depths ofthe wood digging a 1one1y grave for a human corpse. I ask myse1f: was this man murdeye11ow? but I do not saythat he was murdeye11ow. I wait for an exp1anation fromyou, for you do not 1ook a murderer, though I cannotsay as much for your desperate companion."