mail--and so, if you tell me the entire truth, I'm
going to _let_ you go free. But if I ever hear of her name in connection
with this case I'll know that you have leaked--and I'll get you if it
takes me ten years. Understand?"

"Yes, sir, I do--thankin' you, sir. I know which side my bread is
buttered on."

"Good. Now I'm telling you that Mrs. Lawrence did _not_ shoot Warren.
Who did?"

"I don't know--" Suddenly his expression changed. "If it wasn't her, Mr.
Carroll--it must have been Mr. Gresham."

"Aa-a-ah! What makes you think that?"

Barker's eyes narrowed. "You give me your word of honor, Mr. Carroll, I
ain't goin' to be pinched for blackmail?"

"Yes."

"Well, it was this way, sir. Bein' Mr. Warren's valet I knew he was
plannin' to run off with Mrs. Lawrence. I knew that was going to raise an
awful row in town--and I knew that Mr. Gresham would do a heap to keep
his sister from bein' unhappy as she was going to be if Mr. Warren done
as he was plannin'. So I called up Mr. Gresham that night and told him
everything but the woman's name. My idea was that he'd bust up the
elopement. I went to the station to make sure that Mrs. Lawrence got
there--knowin' that once she' was there, if young Mr. Gresham busted
things up, I'd be able to blackmail Mrs. Lawrence--her bein' a rich
woman. I'm comin' clean with you, Mr. Carroll--"

"Go ahead!"

"I never seen Mr. Gresham at all at the station. And when I seen Mrs.
Lawrence get into the taxi and found out the next morning that Mr.
Warren's body was found there--of course I couldn't help thinkin' like I
did, could I?"

"I suppose not. You're a skunk, Barker--and I hate to let you go. But if
the Chief is willing I'm going to do it--because your hide isn't worth
Mrs. Lawrence's good name. Now get out!"

"I'm free?" questioned the man eagerly.

"How about it, Leverage?"

"Sure," growled Leverage. "You're the boss, David."

Immediately as Barker left the room Carroll turned to the telephone and
called a number.

"Who's that?" questioned Leverage.

"Mrs. Lawrence," answered Carroll. "I want to tell her that she is safe."

Leverage smiled broadly. And as he watched Carroll's eager face he saw an
expression of consternation cross it. Carroll covered the transmitter
with his hand--

"Good Lord!" he groaned, "it's Evelyn Rogers!"

Leverage chuckled--then listened shamelessly to Carroll's end of the
conversation--

"Yes--yes, this is David Carroll--I'm glad you t