rse some one else did
that. I've got a theory--not yet proven--to explain it, but I can't give
it out yet."

"How do you account for Florey's body not being found in the lagoon?"
Marten asked quietly.

"I can't account for it. We might have missed it--I don't see how we
could, but we might have done so. I'm going to have men dragging the
lagoon all day, over and over again--until we find _both_ bodies."

"You are convinced that Nealman, too, lies dead in the lagoon?"

"Where else could he be? Did you hear that cry a few hours ago?"

"Good Heavens! Could I ever forget it? My old friend----"

"Was it faked? Could any man have faked a cry like that?"

"Heavens, no! It had the fear and the agony of death right in it. There
can't be any hope of that, Slatterly."

The sheriff gazed about the little circle of white faces. No one
dissented. That cry was real, and there had been tragic need and
extremity behind it: we knew that fact if we knew that we lived.
Evidently the sheriff had completely given over the theory that he had
suggested, half-heartedly, to me--that Nealman might have cried out to
hide the fact of his own suicide.

"No man could have cried out like that to deceive, and then disappear.
No, Mr. Marten, the man that gave that cry is dead, in all probability
in the lagoon, and there seems no doubt but that Nealman was the man."

"Yet you think he was a suicide."

"A suicide often cries out for help when it is too late to back out. But
of course--I can't say for sure."

"You're mistaken in that, Slatterly." Van Hope drew himself together
with a perceptible effort. "I've known this man for years--and in the
end, you'll see it isn't suicide. He wasn't the type that commits
suicide. He's young, he'd be getting himself together to meet that Blair
gang that ruined him and chase 'em into their holes. The suicide theory
is far-fetched, at best."

"It may be," the sheriff agreed. "I only wish there could be some light
thrown on this affair----"

"There will be, Slatterly." Marten's voice dropped almost to a monotone.
"This is too big a deal for one man--or two men either. We've been
talking, and we've decided to send for some one to help you out."

"You have, eh?" Slatterly stiffened. "If I need help I can send through
my own channels--get some state or national detectives----"

"That's all right. Get 'em if you want to. The more the better. But
you haven't got any help yet--even the district attorney has