he would prove the district attorney's
point. He would condemn himself.

"Curious," Graham said slowly, "that the murderer didn't take the
evidence when he killed his man."

"I don't know about that," Robinson said, "but I know Howells had
evidence on his person. You through, Coroner? Then we'll have a look,
although it's little use."

He walked to the bed and searched Howells's pockets.

"Just as I thought. Nothing. He told me he was preparing a report. If he
didn't mail it, that was stolen with the rest of the stuff. Rawlins's
right. He waited too long to make his arrest."

Again Bobby wondered if the man would bring matters to a head now. He
could appreciate, however, that Robinson, with nothing to go on but
Howells's telephoned suspicions, might spoil his chances of a solution by
acting too hastily. Rawlins strolled in.

"The two women were asleep," he said. "The old man knows nothing beyond
the fact that he heard a woman crying outside a little while ago."

"I don't think we need bother about the back part of the house for the
present," Robinson said. "Howells's evidence has been stolen. It's your
job to find it unless it's been destroyed. Your other job is to discover
the instrument that caused death in both cases. Then maybe our worthy
doctor will desert his ghosts. Mr. Blackburn, if you will come with me
there's a slight possibility of checking up some of the evidence of which
Howells spoke. Our fine fellow may have made a slip in the court."

Bobby understood and was afraid--more afraid than he had been at any time
since he had overheard Howells catalogue his case to Graham in the
library. Why, even in so much confusion, had Graham and he failed to
think of those tell-tale marks in the court? They had been intact when he
had stood there just before dark. It was unlikely any one had walked
across the grass since. He saw Graham's elaborate precautions demolished,
the case against him stronger than it had been before Howells's murder.
Graham's face revealed the same helpless comprehension. They followed
Robinson downstairs. Graham made a gesture of surrender. Bobby glanced at
Paredes who alone had remained below. The Panamanian smoked and lounged
in the easy chair. His eyes seemed restless.

"I shall wish to ask you some questions in a few minutes, Mr. Paredes,"
the district attorney said.

"At your service, I'm sure," Paredes drawled.

He watched them until they had entered the court and closed the do