his eyes more deadly, the muzzle of his pistol yet more inflexibly
steady than before.

More clearly still did Dunn realize that the faintest breath of
suspicion stirring in the other's mind that he knew of what was
hidden in the attic would mean certain death and just such another
neat little hole bored through heart or brain as that he had seen
showing in the forehead of his dead friend.

"Haven't you, though?" Deede Dawson repeated. "The bedrooms--the
attics--that's all?"

"Yes, sir, that's all, take my oath that's all," Dunn repeated
earnestly, as if he wished very much to impress on his captor that
he had searched bedrooms and attics thoroughly, but not these
downstairs rooms.

Deede Dawson was plainly puzzled, and for the first time a little
doubt seemed to show in his hard grey eyes.

Dunn perceived that a need was on him to know for certain whether
his dreadful secret had been discovered or not.

Until he had assured himself on that point Dunn felt comparatively
safe, but he still knew also that to allow the faintest suspicion
to dawn in Deede Dawson's mind would mean for him instant death.

He saw, too, watching very warily and ready to take advantage of
any momentary slip or forgetfulness, how steady was Deede Dawson's
hand, how firm and watchful his eyes.