rom the man's
words. For the life of him he could not classify Robert Hume-Frazer. The
man was either a consummate scoundrel, the cold-blooded murderer of
Margaret's brother, or a maligned and ill-used man.

Within a few minutes he would be called upon to treat him in one category
or the other. A few questions might elucidate matters considerably.

The hiatus in the conversation created by the mention of Capella gave him
an opportunity.

"Did you endeavour to raise the requisite capital for your estate in
London only?" he inquired.

"No; I tried elsewhere," was the quick rejoinder.

"Here, for instance, on the New Year's Eve before last?"

"Now, how the blazes did you learn that?" came the fierce demand, the
speaker's excitement rendering him careless of the words he used.

"It is true, then?"

"Yes, but--"

"Robert!--" Margaret's voice was choking, and her face was woefully white
once more--"were you--here--when Alan--was killed?"

"No, not exactly. This thing bewilders me. Let me explain. I saw him that
afternoon. We had a furious quarrel. I never told you about it, Rita. It
was a family matter. I do not hold you responsible. I--"

"Hold me responsible! What do you mean? Did you kill my brother?"

She rose to her feet. Her eyes seemed to peer into his soul. He, too, rose
and faced her.

"By God," he cried, "this is too much! Why didn't you ask your husband
that question?"

"Because my husband, with all his faults, is innocent of that crime. He
was with me in London the night that Alan met his death."

"And I, too, was in London. I left Stowmarket at six o'clock."

"Having reached the place at 2.20?" interposed Brett.

The other turned to him with eager pleading.

"In Heaven's name, Mr. Brett, if you know all about my movements that day,
disabuse Margaret's mind of the terrible idea that prompted her question."

"Why did you come here on that occasion?"

"The truth must out now. My two uncles swindled my father--that is,
Margaret, your father led my Uncle David with him in a most unjust
proceeding. My father took up some risky business in City finance, on the
verbal understanding with his brothers that they would share profits or
bear losses equally. The speculation failed, and your father basely
withdrew from the compact, persuading the other brother to follow his
lead. Perhaps there may have been some justification for his action, but
my poor old dad was very bitter about it. The affair killed