to say,
also your attempt to make me treat this terrible affair in a spirit of
sport. But old Margaret is the superlative of stubbornness. We cannot
expect to go to her to obtain information. I have lived in the house
with her for more than six years. Can I say whether she is a saint or a
crafty villainess? No. I know no more now than when I shook her in my
anger on the evening the Judge died. She has never addressed me of her
own will since. She will give up nothing to me. You have tried her
already."

"I am less conservative in my ideas," I answered. "Since we are in this
field of turbulence and mystery, let us be turbulent and mysterious. All
that you say is true. Therefore, we must force the truth from Margaret
Murchie."

"You mean to induce her--" he began.

"Stuff!" said I. "The thing I mean is assault and battery. The thing I
mean is kidnapping. You may believe in clapping your hand over her mouth
and struggling with her, while we take her out. Personally I prefer a
cone containing the fumes of a liquid called cataleptol, fortunately
well known in my profession, while still a stranger to criminals."

But the careful Estabrook shook his head.

"You are not serious?" said he doubtfully. "Do you plan for me to take
part in this?"

"There must be two," I said. "And once we have the lady in this room, I
will be willing to guarantee that she will tell all she knows. I cannot
ask my chauffeur to go with me, for I trust him about as implicitly as I
trust a rattlesnake. Which makes me think--can you run a car?"

Estabrook was weakening. He nodded. I looked at my watch and found that
it was after eleven. I drew the curtain and saw that sheets of rain were
still being blown slantwise across the foggy radiance of the arc lights.
There is a trace of the criminal in me. Perhaps all men feel it at
times. Just then, observing the wildness of the storm, I felt the joy
of a midnight misdoing, even more than my desire to find the answer to
MacMechem's question.

"I shall be glad to know how you propose to gain a second admittance,"
said Estabrook, when, after tripping over the wet cobblestones and
bending our shoulders to the drive of the cold rain, we had groped
through the black alley to the dimly lit garage. "I'll also be glad to
know why you suppose you can draw a statement from the old woman."

"My dear fellow," said I, "there is the cause of many of your troubles!
You are always wanting to see your way to the end.