uld get
a share of John Minute's millions, and when you found your plan had
miscarried you planned an act of bigamy in order to secure a portion of
Mr. Minute's fortune, which you knew would be considerable."

He turned to Saul Arthur Mann.

"You think I have not been very energetic in pursuing my inquiries as to
who killed John Minute? There is the explanation of my tolerance."

He pointed his finger at Frank.

"This man is the husband of my sister. To ruin him would have meant
involving her in that ruin. For a time I thought they were happily
married. It was only recently that I have discovered the truth."

Frank shook his head.

"I don't know whether to laugh or cry," he said. "I have certainly not
heard--"

"You will hear more," said Jasper Cole. "I will tell you how the murder
was committed and who was the mysterious Rex Holland.

"Your father was a forger. That is known. You also have been forging
signatures since you were a boy. You were Rex Holland. You came to
Eastbourne on the night of the murder, and by an ingenious device you
secured evidence in your favor in advance. Pretending to have lost your
ticket, you allowed station officials to search you and to testify that
you had no weapon. You were dropped at the gate of my father's house,
and, as soon as the cab driver had disappeared, you made your way to
where you had hidden your car in a field at a short distance from the
house.

"You had arrived there earlier in the evening, and had made your way
across the metals to Polegate Junction, where you joined the train. As
you had taken the precaution to have your return ticket clipped in
London, your trick was not discovered. You had regained your car, and
drove up to the house ten minutes after you had been seen to disappear
through the gateway. From your car you had taken the revolver, and with
that revolver you murdered my father. In order to shield yourself you
threw suspicion on me and made friends with one of the shrewdest men,"
he inclined his head toward the speechless Mr. Mann, "and through him
conveyed those suspicions to authoritative quarters. It was you who,
having said farewell to Miss Nuttall in Geneva, reappeared the same
evening at Montreux and wrote a note forging my handwriting. It was you
who left a torn sheet of paper in the room at Number 69 Flowerton Road,
also in your writing.

"You have never moved a step but that I have followed you. My agents
have been with you day and nigh