caught Shirley's hand and wrung it tensely.

"Sit down. The doctor is still upstairs with mother and sister.
When the Coroner comes, I would like to have you be here as a
witness. It's an ordeal--I'll tell you everything."

Shirley listened attentively, without betraying his own
knowledge. Soothing in manner, he questioned the son about any
possible enemy of the murdered man.

"There's not one I know. Dad is popular--he's been too gay,
lately, but just foolish like a lot of rich men. He wouldn't
harm any one. He inherited his money, you know. Didn't have to
crush the working people. Like me, he's been endeavoring to
spend it ever since he was born, but it comes in too fast from
our estates."

He looked up apprehensively, at the sympathetic face of his
companion.

"It's very unwise to tell this. I suppose it's a State's prison
offence to deceive about murder. But you understand our
position: we can't afford to let it become gossip. I'll pay this
girl anything to go to Europe or the Antipodes!"

"I wouldn't do that," suggested Shirley, thoughtfully. "Let her
stay. You would like to bring the culprit to justice, if it can
be done without dragging your name into it. If he has planned
this, he has executed other schemes. She certainly would not
remain the machine if she were the guilty one. Why not employ a