there, just as Ina told you, Mr. Boyne, between
the reception and our getting off for San Francisco."

"All this concerns the early part of the evening," put in Cummings.

"Yes--but it concerns Worth, too. He was there when I came in.... It was
very painful."

"The quarrel between Captain Gilbert and his father d'ye mean?" Dykeman
asked his first question. Mrs. Bowman nodded assent.

"Thomas went right on, before me, just as though I hadn't been there.
Then, when it came my turn, he would have spoken out before Worth of--of
my private affairs. That was his way. But I couldn't stand it. I went
with Worth out to his machine. He had it in the back road. We talked
there a little while, and Worth drove away, going fast, headed for San
Francisco."

"And that was the last time you saw Thomas Gilbert alive?" Cummings
summed up for her.

"I hadn't finished," she objected mildly. "After Worth was gone, I went
back into the study and pleaded with Thomas for a long time. I pointed
out to him that if I'd sinned, I'd certainly suffered, and what I asked
was no more than the right any human being has, even if they may be so
unfortunate as to be born a woman."

Dykeman looked exquisitely miserable; but Cummings was only the lawyer
getting rid of an unwanted witness, as he warned her,

"Not the slightest need to go into your personal matters, Mrs. Bowman.
We know them already. We knew also of your visit to Mr. Gilbert's study
that night, and that you didn't go there alone. Had the testimony been
of any importance to us, we'd have called in both you and James
Edwards."

I could see that her deep concern for another steadied Laura Bowman.

"How do you know all this?" she demanded. "Who told you?"

"Your husband, Doctor Bowman."

Up came the red in her face, her eyes shone with anger.

"He did follow me, then? I thought I saw him creeping through the
shrubbery on the lawn."

"He did follow you. He has told us of your being at the study--the two
of you--when young Gilbert was there."

"See here, Cummings," I put in, "if Bowman was around the place, then he
knows that Worth left before the crime was committed. Why hasn't he told
you so?"

"He has," Cummings said neatly; and I felt as though something had
slipped. Barbara kept a brave front, but Mrs. Bowman moaned audibly.

"And still you've charged Worth Gilbert? Why not Bowman himself? He was
there. As much reason to suspect him as any of the others. Do you mean
to tel