s to your motives--or
yours, judge. You were anxious enough, you said when we talked at
Sloane's door, for me to go on with it. If you're still of that opinion,
I advise you to advise your friend here to be more outspoken with me.
I'll give you this straight: if I can't be corn, I won't be shucks. But
I intend to be corn. I'm going to conduct this investigation as I see
fit. I won't be turned aside; I won't play second to your lead!"

He was fine in his intensity. Astounded by his vehemence, the two men he
addressed were silent, meeting his keen and steady scrutiny.

He smiled, and, as he did so, they were aware, with an emotion like
shock, that his whole face mirrored forth a genuine and warm
self-satisfaction. The thing was as plain as if he had spoken it aloud:
he had gotten out of the interview what he wanted. Their recognition of
this fact increased their blankness.

"You know my position now," he added, no longer denunciatory. "If you
change your minds, that will be great! I want all the help I can get.
And, take it from me, young man, you can't afford to throw away any you
can get."

"Threats?"

Webster had shot out the one word with cool insolence before the judge
could begin a conciliatory remark. The change in the lawyer's manner was
so unpleasant, the insult so palpably deliberate, that Hastings could
not mistake the purpose back of it. Webster regarded him out of burning
eyes.

"No; not threats," Hastings answered him in a voice that was cold as
ice. "I think you understand what I mean. I know too little, and I
suspect too much, to drop my search for the murderer of that woman."

Judge Wilton tried to placate him:

"I don't see what your complaint is, Hastings. We----"

A smothered, half-articulate cry from Webster interrupted him. Hastings,
first to spring forward, caught the falling man by his arm, breaking the
force of the fall. He had clutched the edge of the piano as his legs
gave under him. That, and the quickness of the detective, made the fall
more like a gentle sliding to the floor.

Save for the one, gurgling outcry, no word came from him. He was
unconscious, his colourless lips again twisted to that poor semblance of
smiling defiance which Hastings had noticed at the beginning of the
interview.

X

THE WHISPERED CONFERENCE

Dr. Garnet, reaching Sloanehurst half an hour later, found Webster in
complete collapse. He declared that for at least several days the sick
man must