his private affairs," answered Langham hastily. "He
has never seemed to lack money; he has always had it to spend freely."

"It would appear that Mr. North is our star witness; what do you think,
gentlemen?" and Moxlow glanced from one to another of the little group
that surrounded him.

"At any rate he is a most _important_ witness," emphasized the coroner.

"North took the Chicago express as he had planned," said Gilmore
quietly. "The bus driver for the United States Hotel, where I
breakfasted, told me that he saw him at the depot last night."

"I think we'd better wire North's description to the Chicago police; I
see no other way to reach him." As he spoke, Moxlow turned to the
sheriff. "You get ready to start West, Mr. Conklin. And don't let there
be any hitch about it, either."

CHAPTER TEN

HUSBAND AND WIFE

Marshall Langham paused on the court-house steps; he was shaking as with
an ague. He passed a tremulous hand again and again across his eyes, as
though to shut out something, a memory--a fantasy he wanted to forget;
but he well knew that at no time could he forget. Gilmore, coming from
the building, stepped to his side.

"Well, Marsh, what do you think?" he said.

"What do I think?" the lawyer, repeated dully.

"Doesn't it seem to you that Jack North has been rather unlucky in his
movements?"

"Oh, they make me tired!" cried Langham, with sudden passion.

Gilmore stared at him, coldly critical. The lawyer moved away.

"Going to your office, Marsh?" the gambler asked.

"No, I'm going home," Langham said shortly, and went down the steps into
the street.

Home--until he could pull up and get control of himself, that was the
best place for him!

He turned into the Square, and from the Square into High Street, and ten
minutes later paused before his own door. After a brief instant of
irresolution he entered the house. Evelyn was probably down-town at that
hour, on one of the many errands she was always making for herself.

Without removing his hat or overcoat he dropped into a chair before the
library fire. A devastating weariness possessed him, but he knew he
could not hide there in his home. To-day he might, to-morrow even, but
the time would come when he must go out and face the world, must listen
to the endless speculation concerning Mount Hope's one great sensation,
the McBride murder. Five minutes passed while he sat lost in thought,
then he quitted his chair and went to a small