Boyle, is to convince us that you weren't
there when Mr. Miller was killed and we'll let you go. See."

Boyle's eyes blinked. His ruddy complexion turned several shades
lighter. He blinked again. He wet his lips. He made a visible
effort to appear calm. He sneered:

"Just like a dumb cop. Asking me to prove that I didn't do it. You
ought to know by this time that it's up to you to prove that I did
it, that I was where you say I was."

"I'm not saying anything--yet, Boyle. I'm not saying you was there,
but--" he stood up and was standing over the prisoner his face
thrust forward, his eyes glinting threateningly, "Boyle, you got a
record as long as a pedigreed dog. You've been mugged and finger
printed all over this country. You done a bit in Joliet for
getting into a house the same way as you got in in Yonkers and as
you got in--Miller's Folly. All you got to do, Boyle, is prove--sure
you're right about the law, Boyle, about us having to prove it,
you're right about that.

"But just picture the jury, Boyle. The jury don't know as much law
as you do. We'll give the jury your record, see? We'll tell 'em--we'll
tell 'em plenty. Where was you that night Boyle?"

Boyle wet his lips.

"I was in a 'speak' that night. About eight o'clock I got talking
with a man, a stranger, a man I don't know. We had a couple of
drinks. He had a business proposition to make and he wanted me to
take a drive with him. I went. Next thing I knew, I woke up in a
ditch about four miles from here. It was morning. I guess my drink
was drugged. The man, whoever he was, took everything I had on me
except my watch. He didn't get it because it was in the little fob
pocket of my trousers. I had a vest on."

"Where was this 'speak,' Boyle?"

"It was Corbett's," said Boyle after a momentary hesitation.

"Did anybody in Corbett's know this bird, Boyle?"

"I don't know; he was a stranger to me."

Brasher lifted the receiver from the hook. After an interval the
connection was made. Boyle watched him anxiously while he was
asking the unseen person at the other end of the wire some
questions. Brasher hung up the receiver. He turned to Boyle:

"Yeah, they say you was there and left with a stranger about eight
o'clock that night. They never saw this bird before. What business
was you talkin' to him about, Boyle?"

"Oh, just some private business."

"Oh, private business, huh. You walk away with--by the way, Boyle,
what business are you in now?"