ery hundred newspaper readers would consider his illness a fake, the
obvious trick to escape the work of explaining what seemed to be
inexplicable circumstances.

To Hastings the situation was particularly annoying because he had
brought it about; his own questioning had turned out to be the straw
that broke the suspected man's endurance.

"Always blundering!" he upbraided himself. "Trying to be so all-shot
smart, I overplayed my hand."

He got Dr. Garnet on the wire.

"Doctor," he said, in a tone that implored, "I'm obliged to see Webster
today."

"Sorry, Mr. Hastings," came the instant refusal; "but it can't be done."

"For one question," qualified Hastings; "less than a minute's talk--one
word, 'yes' or 'no'? It's almost a matter of life and death."

"If that man's excited about anything," Garnet retorted, "it will be
entirely a matter of death. Frankly, I couldn't see my way clear to
letting you question him if his escaping arrest depended on it. I called
in Dr. Welles last night; and I'm giving you his opinion as well as my
own."

"When can I see him, then?"

"I can't answer that. It may be a week; it may be a month. All I can
tell you today is that you can't question him now."

With that information, Hastings decided to interview Judge Wilton.

"He's the next best," he thought. "That whispering across the woman's
body--it's got to be explained, and explained right!"

As a matter of fact, he had refrained from this inquiry the day before,
so that his mind might not be clouded by anger. His deception by the
judge had greatly provoked him.

XIII

MRS. BRACE BEGINS

Court had recessed for lunch when Hastings, going down a second-story
corridor of the Alexandria county courthouse, entered Judge Wilton's
anteroom. His hand was raised to knock on the door of the inner office
when he heard the murmur of voices on the other side. He took off his
hat and sat down, welcoming the breeze that swept through the room, a
refreshing contrast to the forenoon's heat and smother downstairs.

He reached for his knife and piece of pine, checked the motion and
glanced swiftly toward the closed door. A high note of a woman's voice
touched his memory, for a moment confusing him. But it was for a moment
only. While the sound was still in his ears, he remembered where he had
heard it before--from Mrs. Brace when, toward the close of his interview
with her, she had shrilly denounced Berne Webster.

Mrs. Brace, h