ave
receipts for all of them. Fences always do that, of course."

"But I did sell them to Mr. Gwinnett. I can take you to his house, if you
get a search warrant, and show you where he has them hidden in the
garret. He was afraid to offer them for sale until after this collection
had been broken up and sold; he still has every one of them."

McKenna spat out an obscenity. "Aren't we ever going to have any luck?"
he demanded. "Jarrett out on a writ this morning, and now this!"

"But he ain't in the clear," Kavaalen argued. "Maybe he didn't sell
Rivers the pistols, but maybe he did kill him."

"Dope!" McKenna abused his subordinate. "If he didn't sell Rivers the
pistols, why would he kill him?"

"He's only said he sold them to Gwinnett," Rand pointed out. Then he
turned to Walters. "Look here; if we find those pistols in Gwinnett's
possession, you're clear on this murder charge. There's still a slight
matter of larceny, but that doesn't involve the electric chair. You take
my advice and make a confession now, and then accompany these officers to
Gwinnett's place and show them the pistols. If you do that, you may
expect clemency on the theft charge, too."

"Oh, I will, sir! I'll sign a full confession, and take these
police-officers and show them every one of the pistols...."

Rand put paper and carbon sheets in the typewriter. As Walters dictated,
he typed; the butler listed every pistol which Gresham and Pierre Jarrett
had found missing, and a cased presentation pair of .44 Colt 1860's that
nobody had missed. He signed the triplicate copies willingly; he didn't
seem to mind signing himself into jail, as long as he thought he was
signing himself out of the electric chair.

The book in which Fleming had recorded his pistols he still had; he had
removed it from the gunroom and was keeping it in his room. He said he
would get it, along with the things he would need to take to jail with
him. When it was finished, they all went down the spiral stairway into
the library.

Nelda was standing at the foot of it. Evidently she had been listening to
what had been going on upstairs.

"You dirty sneak!" she yelled, catching sight of Walters. "After all
we've done for you, you turn around and rob us! I hope they give you
twenty years!"

Walters turned to McKenna. "Sergeant, I am willing to accept the penalty
of the law for what I have done, but I don't believe, sir, that it
includes being yapped at by this vulgar bitch."