n, tried to nod his head up and down, to show he
would do as Berne said. Then, when they saw she was dead, they both
hurried around the corner to the front of the house, and I heard them
come in; I heard the judge call to father and run up to your room."

She was alarmed then by the amazement and disapproval in his face.

"Oh!" she said, and this time she took his hand. "You see! You see! You
don't understand! You think Berne killed her!"

"I don't know," he said, wondering. "I must think." For the moment,
indignation swept him. "Wilton! A judge, a judge!--keeping quiet on a
thing like that! I must think."

XI

MOTIVES REVEALED

She let go his hand and, still leaning toward him, waited for him to
speak. A confusion of misgivings assailed her--she regretted having
confided in him. If his anger embraced Berne as well as Judge Wilton,
she had done nothing but harm!

Seeing her dismay, he tried again to reassure her.

"But no matter!" he minimized his own sense of shock. "I'm sure I'll
understand if you'll tell me more--your explanation."

Obviously, the only inference he could draw from her story as she had
told it was that Webster had killed the woman and, found bending over
her body, had sprung forward to silence the man who had discovered him.
Nevertheless, it was equally evident that she was sincere in attributing
to Webster a different motive for preventing the judge's outcry.
Consideration of that persuaded Hastings that she could give him facts
which would change the whole aspect of the crime.

Her hesitance now made him uneasy; he recognized the necessity of
increasing her reliance upon him. If she told him only a part of what
she knew, he would be scarcely in a better position than before.

"Naturally," he added, "you can throw light on the whole incident--light
by which I must be guided, to a great degree."

"If Berne were not ill," she responded to that, "I wouldn't tell.--It's
because he's lying up there, his lips closed, unable to keep a look-out
for developments, at the mercy of what the sheriff may do or
say!--That's why I feel so dreadfully the need of help, Mr. Hastings!"

She slid back in her chair, moving farther from him, as if his kindly
gaze disconcerted her.

"If he hadn't suffered this collapse, I should have left the matter to
him, I think. But now--now I can't!" She straightened again, her chin
up, the signal with her of final decision. "He acted on his impulsive
desire to