?"

Twice the words he tried to say faded on his lips. At last he managed
a "No."

"Why not?"

"I--found a door and escaped."

"You must have heard shooting."

"I heard shots as I ran down the stairs. This morning I read
that--that a man was--" He swallowed down a lump and left the sentence
unfinished.

"Then you know that Clay is accused of killing this man, and that the
police are looking for you because you were with him."

"Yes." His answer was a dry whisper.

"Did you see this man Collins in the room?"

"No. I shouldn't know him if I saw him."

"But you heard shots. You're sure of that!" cried Beatrice.

"Y-yes."

The girl turned triumphantly to her father. "He saw the gun and he
heard shots. That proves self-defense at the worst. They were
shooting at Clay when he struck with the chair--if he did. Clarendon's
testimony will show that."

"My testimony!" screamed Bromfield. "My God, do you think I'm going
to--to--go into court? They would claim I--I was--"

She waited, but he did not finish. "Clay's life may depend upon it,
and of course you'll tell the truth," she said quietly.

"Maybe I didn't hear shots," he hedged. "Maybe it was furniture
falling. There was a lot of noise of people stamping and fighting."

"You--heard--shots."

The eyes of the girl were deadly weapons. They glittered like
unscabbarded steel. In them was a contained fire that awed him.

He threw out his hand in a weak, impotent gesture of despair. "My God,
how did I ever come to get into such a mix-up? It will ruin me."

"How did you come to go?" she asked.

"He wanted to see New York. I suppose I had some notion of taking him
slumming."

Beatrice went up to him and looked straight into his eyes. "Then
testify to that in court. It won't hurt you any. Go down to the
police and say you have read in the paper that they want you. Tell the
whole truth. And Clary--don't weaken. Stick to your story about the
shots." Her voice shook a little. "Clay's life is at stake. Remember
that."

"Do you think it would be safe to go to the police?" he asked
doubtfully.

Whitford spoke up. "That's the only square and safe thing to do,
Bromfield. They'll find out who you are, of course. If you go
straight to them you draw the sting from their charge that you were an
accomplice of Clay. Don't lose your nerve. You'll go through with
flying colors. When a man has done nothing wrong he needn't be afraid."