h
troubled me a little. He was the silent kind that keeps you guessing.
She'd landed him once; what was to hinder her being successful with the
same tactics--whatever they'd been--a second time?

Then I saw Edwards' car was still out in the big, crescent driveway,
showing by the drift of twigs and petals on its running board that it
had been used to bring in tree blooms from his ranch; the man himself
crossed the veranda, and I hailed,

"Any place inside where you and I could have a private word together?"

"I--I think so, Boyne," he hesitated. "Come on back here."

He led me straight across the big assembly room which was being trimmed
for the ball. From the top of a stepladder, Skeet Thornhill yelled to
us,

"Where you two going? Come back here, and get on the job."

She had a dozen noisy assistants. I waved at her from the further door
as we ducked. Strange that honest, sound little thing should be own
sister to the doll-faced vamp out there in the showcase.

Edwards made for a little writing room at the end of a corridor. I
followed his long, nervous stride. If the man had been goaded to the
shooting of Thomas Gilbert, it would have been an act of passion, and by
passion he would betray himself. When I had him alone, the door shut, I
went to it, told him we knew the death was murder, not suicide, and that
the crime had been committed early Saturday night. Before I could
connect him with it, he broke in on me,

"Is Worth suspected?"

"Not by me," I said. "And by God, not by you, Edwards! You know better
than that."

I held his eye, but read nothing beyond what might have been the flare
of quick anger for the boy's sake.

"Who then?" he said. "Who's dared to lisp a word like that? That hound
Cummings--chasing around Santa Ysobel with Bowman--is that where it
comes from? I told Worth the fellow was knifing him in the back." He
began to stride up and down the room. "The boy's got other
friends--that'll go their length for him. I'm with him till hell freezes
over. You can count on me--"

"Exactly what I wanted to find out," I cut in, so significantly that he
whirled at the end of his beat and stared.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning you are the one man who could clear Worth Gilbert of all
suspicion."

"_What do you know?_"

The big voice had come down to a mere whisper. Plenty of passion now--a
passion of terror. I spoke quickly.

"We know you were in the study that night, with a companion," and I
piled out