the idea of murder with that
gentle, harmless old man? Ridiculous!"

"He was devoted to your father because Mr. Copley stood by him when he
didn't know where to turn. He had been in trouble. Did you know that?"

"Vaguely--from Bates himself. Why? What trouble was it?"

"Starvation. He had difficulty finding work because no one wished to
employ a man who had just been pardoned out of a penitentiary where he
was serving a life sentence for murder."

There was a brief silence.

"It can't be!" she whispered at length. "Not Bates! It can't be
_true_!"

"He was married in those days, and the other man was guilty of breaking
up the home. Extenuating circumstances, you see. He was lucky enough
to have a lawyer who didn't lose interest when the prison swallowed
him, and he brought the matter to the attention of a new Governor who
pardoned Bates after he had served five years. Your father happened on
him when he was near the end of his rope, gave him sanctuary and helped
him bury the past. That is his story."

"How did he come to tell you?"

"I persuaded him to. I've noticed ever since I've been in the house
that he was shaky, nervous--_worried_. Three times out of five, when
you see a servant in that condition following a mysterious crime, you
can look for the explanation in a shady past. I tackled him from that
basis. He didn't need much urging--in fact, he told me he had half
made up his mind to come to me with the story of his own accord. I
believe him. He had been in mortal terror lest the police discover
it." Creighton paused in order to study her serious, thoughtful face.
"He asked me to tell you this."

"He did!"

"He seems devoted to you. He had wanted to tell you himself, but could
never quite find the courage. He has wanted you to know the truth
about him, but has never been able to forget the way others used to
receive it. He has taken some hard knocks."

"Poor soul. Poor lonely soul!" Her voice was tender.

"I thought you'd feel that way about it! You'll find an opportunity to
make him understand, I suppose? Probably he won't want to talk much
about it, but you--you could give him a friendly pat on the arm or--or
something like that, couldn't you?"

Miss Ocky suddenly turned and looked at him with eyes that were shining
through unshed tears.

"You're a queer man! You can sit there suspecting him of murder and
still want me to be kind to him!"

"Have I said anything abou