n the right of the hall.
The library was on the left. He flung open the door. I steered myself
into the room; and there, standing on the white bearskin hearthrug, his
back to the fire, his hands in his pockets, his six inches of stiff
white beard stuck aggressively outward, I saw Daniel Gedge.

While I gaped in astonishment, Sir Anthony shut the door behind him,
drew a straight-backed chair from the wall, planted it roughly some
distance away from the fire, and, pointing to it, bade Gedge sit down.
Gedge obeyed. Sir Anthony took the hearthrug position, his hands behind
his back, his legs apart.

"This man," said he, "has come to me with a ridiculous, beastly story.
At first I was undecided whether I should listen to him or kick him
out. I thought it wiser to listen to him in the presence of a reputable
witness. That's why I've sent for you, Duncan. Now you just begin all
over again, my man," said he, turning to Gedge, "and remember that
anything you say here will be used against you at your trial."

Gedge laughed--I must admit, with some justification.

"You forget, Sir Anthony, I'm not a criminal and you're not a
policeman."

"I'm the Mayor to this town, sir," cried Sir Anthony. "I'm also a
Justice of the Peace."

"And I'm a law-abiding citizen," retorted Gedge.

"You're an infernal socialistic pro-German," exclaimed Sir Anthony.

"Prove it. I only ask you to prove it. No matter what my private
opinions may be, you just try to bring me up under the Defence of the
Realm Act, and you'll find you can't touch me."

I held out a hand. "Forgive me for interrupting," said I, "but what is
all this discussion about?"

Gedge crossed one leg over the other and drew his beard through his
fingers. Sir Anthony was about to burst into speech, but I checked him
with a gesture and turned to Gedge.

"It has nothing to do with political opinions," said he. "It has to do
with the death, nearly two years ago, of Miss Althea Fenimore, Sir
Anthony's only daughter."

Sir Anthony, his face congested, glared at him malevolently. I started,
with a gasp of surprise, and stared at the man who, caressing his
beard, looked from one to the other of us with an air of satisfaction.

"Get on," said Sir Anthony.

"You are going to give a civic reception to-day to Colonel Boyce, V.C.,
aren't you?"

"Yes, I am," snapped Sir Anthony.

"Do you think you ought to do it when I tell you that Colonel Boyce,
V.C., murdered Miss Althea Fenimor