cIntyre contends that Turnbull forged the letter
and stole the securities, then fearing his guilt would become known,
committed still another crime--that of suicide, he could have swallowed
a dose of aconitine while at the police court."

"Well, I'll be--blessed!" ejaculated Ferguson. "But if he was the forger
how does that square with Rochester's peculiar behavior? The checks
bearing your forged signatures were presented, mind you, by Rochester
after Turnbull's death?"

"It doesn't square," acknowledged Kent frankly. "There is this to be
said for Turnbull: he was the soul of honor, his affairs were found to
be in excellent condition, he was drawing a good salary, his investments
paying well--he did not need to acquire securities or money by resorting
to forgery."

"Whereas Philip Rochester was on the point of bankruptcy," remarked
Ferguson. "Do you suppose he forged Colonel McIntyre's letter and
gave it to Turnbull, and the latter got the securities from the bank
treasurer and handed them over to Rochester in good faith, supposing his
room-mate would give the papers to Colonel McIntyre?"

Kent nodded in agreement. "It looks that way to me," he said gloomily.
"Philip Rochester stood well in the community, his law practice is
large and lucrative, and if it had not been for his periods of idleness
and--and"--hesitating--"passion for good living, he would never have run
into debt."

"But he got there." Ferguson's laugh was contemptuous. "A desperate man
will do anything, Mr. Kent."

"I know," Kent looked dubious. "I would believe him guilty if it were
not for the use of aconitine--that shows premeditation on the part of
the murderer."

"And why shouldn't Rochester plan Turnbull's murder ahead of the scene
in the police court?" argued Ferguson. "Wasn't he living in deadly fear
of exposure? If he did not commit the murder, why did he run away? And
if he is innocent, why doesn't he come forward and prove it?"

"He may not know that he is suspected of the crime," retorted Kent,
rising. "It is for us to find Rochester, and I suggest that we search
this apartment thoroughly."

"I have already done so," objected Ferguson. "And there wasn't the
faintest clew to his hiding place."

"For all that I am not satisfied." Kent walked over and switched on
another light. "When I came here on Wednesday night I had a tussle with
some man, but he escaped in the dark without my seeing him. I believe he
was Rochester."

"You are