hat 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 Senor 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?"

"I won't tell you."

Mr. Grimm leaned forward in his chair, and spoke earnestly.

"Understand, please, that by that answer you assume equal guilt with the
person who actually did the shooting," he explained. "If you adhere to
it you compel me to regard you as an accomplice." His questioning took a
different line.

"Will you explain how the revolver came into your possession?"

"Oh, I--I picked it up in the hallway there," she replied vaguely.

"I want to believe you, Miss Thorne," Mr. Grimm said again.

"You may. I picked it up in the hallway," she repeated. "I saw it lying
there and picked it up."

"Why that, instead of giving an alarm?"

"No alarm was necessary. The shot itself was an alarm."

"Then why," Mr. Grimm persisted coldly, "did you run along the hallway
and escape by way of the kitchen? If you did not do the shooting, why
the necessity of escape, carrying the revolver?"

There was that in the blue-gray eyes which brought Mr. Grimm to his
feet. His hands gripped each other cruelly; his tone was calm as always.

"Why did you take the revolver?" he asked.

Miss Thorne's head drooped forward a little, and she was silent.

"There are only two possibilities, of course," he went on. "First, that
you, in spite of your denial, did the shooting."

"I did not!" The words fairly burst from her tightly closed lips.

"Or that you knew the revolver, and took it to save the person, man or
woman, who fired the shot. I will assume, for the moment, that this is
correct. Where is the revolver?"

From the adjoining room there came a slight noise, a faint breath of
sound; or it might have been only an echo of silence. Their eyes were
fixed each upon the others unwaveringly, with not a flicker to indicate
that either had heard. After a moment Miss Thorne returned to her chair
and sat down.

"It's rather a