s innocent as it was foolish, dear;
you left me so much alone, and I thought you really didn't care for me
any more, and so--and so--"

"Go on!"

"Well, that is all, Marsh."

"All?"

"Yes, it went no further than that, just a silly fancy, and I'd known
him all my life--"

"Of whom are you speaking?"

"Of John North--"

"Damn him!" he cried. "And so that's what brought him here--and you were
with him last night!" He sprang to his feet, his face livid. "What do
you take me for? Do you expect me to forgive you for that--"

"But Marsh, it was just a silly sentimental fancy! Oh, why did I tell
you!"

"Yes, why _did_ you tell me!" he stormed.

"Because I thought it would make it easier for you to confess to _me_--"

"Confess to you? I've nothing to confess--I've loved you honestly! Did
you think I'd been carrying on some nasty sneaking intrigue with a
friend's wife--did you think I was that sort of a fellow--the sort of a
fellow North is? Do you take me for a common blackguard?"

"Marsh, don't! Marshall, please--for my sake--" and she clung to him,
but he cast her off roughly.

"Keep away from me!" he said with sullen repression, but there was a
murderous light in his eyes. "Don't touch me!" he warned.

"But say you forgive me!"

"Forgive you--" He laughed.

"Yes, forgive me--Marsh!"

"Forgive you--no, by God!"

He reached for the bottle.

"Not that--not that, Marsh; your promise only a moment ago--your
promise, Marsh!"

But he poured himself half a tumbler of whisky and emptied it at a
swallow.

"To hell with my promise!" he said, and strode from the room.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

THE FINGER OF SUSPICION

In Chicago Conklin found an angry young man at police headquarters, and
the name of this young man was John North.

"This is a most damnable outrage!" he cried hotly the moment he espied
Mount Hope's burly sheriff.

"I am mighty sorry to have interfered with your plans, John--just mighty
sorry." The sheriff's tone was meant to soothe and conciliate. "But you
see we are counting on you to throw some light on the McBride murder."

"So that's it! I tell you, Conklin, I consider that I have been treated
with utter discourtesy; I've been a virtual prisoner here over night!"

"That's too bad, John," said the sheriff sympathetically, "but we didn't
know where a wire would reach you, so there didn't seem any other way
than this--"

"Well, what do you want with me?" demanded North, with rathe