"You can do as you please," I said coolly.

The detective ripped out an oath.

"If I knew you were lying, Wilton, I'd clap you in jail this minute."

"Well, if you want to take the risks--" I said smiling.

He looked at me for a full minute.

"Candidly, I don't, and you know it," he said. "But this is a stunner
on me. What's your game, anyhow?"

I wished I knew.

"So accomplished a detective should not be at a loss to answer so
simple a question."

"Well, there's only one course open, as I see," he said with a groan.
"We've got to have a story ready for the papers and the coroner's
jury."

This was a new suggestion for me and I was alarmed.

"You can just forget your little tale about the row in the alley," he
continued. "There's nothing to show that it had anything to do with
this man here. Maybe it didn't happen. Anyhow, just think it was a
dream. This was a water-front row--tough saloon--killed and robbed by
parties unknown. Maybe we'll have you before the coroner for the
identification, but maybe it's better not."