d the merchant.

Why had George Lerton been so eager to destroy his cousin's alibi?

Why was George Lerton trying to have Sidney Prale sent to the electric
chair for murder?

CHAPTER XIII

A PLAN OF CAMPAIGN

Naturally, a man facing prosecution on a murder charge is liable to be
nervous, whether he is innocent or not. If an attempt is being made to
gather evidence that will clear him, he wishes for frequent reports,
always hoping that there will be some ray of hope. And so it was with
Sidney Prale this morning, as he paced the floor in the living room of
his suite in the hotel.

Murk had done everything possible to make Sidney Prale comfortable. Now
he merely stood to one side and watched the man who had saved him from a
self-inflicted death, and tried to think of something that he could say
or do to make Prale easier in his mind.

They had not seen or heard from Jim Farland since the evening before,
when he had engaged the taxicab and had started in pursuit of the
limousine Kate Gilbert had entered. Prale wondered what Farland had been
doing, whether he had discovered anything concerning Kate Gilbert,
whether he had found a clew that would lead to an unraveling of the
mystery.

"Are you sure about that Farland man, Mr. Prale?" Murk asked, after a
time.

"What do you mean by that, Murk?"

"Well, he's a kind of cop, and I never had much faith in cops," said
Murk.

"Farland is an old friend of mine, Murk, and he is on the square--if
that is what you mean."

"He sure started out like a house afire, sir, but he seems to be fallin'
down now," Murk declared. "He sure did handle that barber and the
clothin' merchant, but he ain't showed us any speed since he left us
last night."

"He is busy somewhere--you may be sure of that," Sidney Prale declared.

"Well, boss, I ain't got any education, and I ain't an expert in any
particular line, but I've often been accused of havin' common sense, and
I'm strong for you!"

"Meaning what, Murk?"

"Nothin', boss, except that I'd like to be busy gettin' you out of this
mess. Seems to me I know just as much about it as you do, and if we'd
talk matters over, maybe I'd get some sort of an idea, or somethin' like
that."

Prale sat down before the window, lighted a cigar, and looked up at
Murk.

"Go ahead," he said. "It won't hurt anything, and it will serve to kill
time until we hear from Jim Farland. What do you want to talk about
first?"

"It seems to me,"