electric.

James spoke quickly, to bridge any embarrassment. "This is a dreadful
thing about Uncle James. I've never been so shocked before in my life.
The crime was absolutely fiendish."

Kirby nodded. "Or else the deed of some insane person. Men in their
right senses don't do such things."

"No," agreed James. "Murder's one thing. Such coldblooded deviltry is
quite another. There may be insanity connected with it. But one thing
is sure. I'll not rest till the villain's run to earth and punished."

His eyes met those of his cousin. They were cold and bleak.

"Do you think I did it?" asked Kirby quietly.

The directness of the question took James aback. After the fraction of
a second's hesitation he spoke. "If I did I wouldn't be going to lunch
with you."

Jack cut in. Excitement had banished his usual almost insolent
indolence. His dark eyes burned with a consuming fire. "Let's put our
cards on the table. We think you're the man the police are looking
for--the one described in the papers."

"What makes you think that?"

"You told us you were going to see him as soon as he got back from the
Springs. The description fits you to a T. You can't get away with an