not, shoot him?"

"No, of course I didn't shoot him," was the reply. If there was any
emotion in the tone it was merely impatience. "Why do you come to me?"
she repeated.

"Why do I come to you?" Mr. Grimm echoed the question, while his
listless eyes rested on her face. "I will be absolutely frank, as I feel
sure you would be under the same circumstances." He paused a moment; she
nodded. "Well, immediately after the shooting you ran along the hallway
with a revolver in your hand; you ran down the steps into the kitchen,
and out through the back door, where you entered an automobile. That is
not conjecture; it is susceptible of proof by eye witnesses."

Miss Thorne rose suddenly with a queer, helpless little gesture of her
arms, and walked to the window. She stood there for a long time with her
hands clasped behind her back.

"That brings us to another question," Mr. Grimm continued mercilessly.
"If you did not shoot Señor Alvarez, do you know who did?"

There was another long pause.

"I want to believe you, Miss Thorne," he supplemented.

She turned quickly with something of defiance in her attitude.

"Yes, I know," she said slowly. "It were useless to deny it."

"Who was it?"