ly up in the air."

"You keep right on trying to figure it out," Farland advised him. "You
might think of something in time that will give me a start in my work."

"Why did the banker and hotel manager lie?" Prale asked. "Why did the
clothing-store man and the barber lie? Why did George Lerton declare
that he did not see me and speak to me last night? And how did my
fountain pen get into Shepley's room?"

"Huh! When we know a few of those things, we'll know enough to wipe this
charge away from your name," Jim Farland told him. "It's my job to
answer those little questions for you. And now--you want a lawyer, I
suppose?"

"Yes. Can you suggest one?"

"The greatest criminal lawyer in town is named Coadley. I'll send him
right up here after I explain about this case to him. Thank Heaven, you
have plenty of money! A poor man in a fix like this would be on his way
to the electric chair. Coadley can fix you up, if anybody can. He can
make a sinner look like a saint."

"But I'm not guilty!"

"I understand that, Sid, but it doesn't hurt an innocent man to have the
best attorney he can get. I'll send you Coadley. Give me a note to that
fellow Murk, for I may want him to help me. Sure he's loyal to you?"

"I never saw him until last night, but I'd bank on him," said Prale.
"He'll stand by us!"

"Fair enough! You write that note right now, and try to get out on bail.
Tell Coadley to get busy on that right away. Get out under police
supervision, under guard--any way--but get out!"

Jim Farland hurried away, and Sidney Prale was conducted through dark
corridors to a cell, where he had the experience of hearing a door clang
shut behind him and the bolts shot. Prale never had expected to get into
jail when he was worth a million dollars, and most certainly he never
had expected to face a charge of murder.

He was allowed to send out for some luncheon, and it was more than an
hour before Coadley, the attorney, arrived. Prale was taken into the
consultation room.

He liked Coadley, and he liked the way in which Coadley regarded him
before he spoke.

"I believe that you are innocent," the lawyer said.

"The job will be to make other people think that way," Prale said, with
a laugh. The attorney's words had been like a ray of hope to him. "Did
Jim Farland tell you the story?"

"Yes. I'll try to get you out on bail, or get you out in some manner,"
Coadley said. "This appears to be a peculiar case. It is not only the
cha