o go
downstairs, ring up police headquarters and ask for a couple of
officers to come as quickly as they can travel."

"What for? I don't----"

"I've got to arrest the man who murdered your uncle," said Garrison,
using the most searching and startling method at command to put young
Durgin to the test of guilt or innocence. "Act first and come back
afterward!"

"I'm with you!" said Durgin. "Got him, have you?--what's his name?"

He was innocent.

Garrison knew it, and instantly concluded that the young man before him
could hardly have stolen the uncle's second will. But he had no time
for ramifying inquiries. He pushed his visitor toward the elevator and
only answered with more urging for speed.

He returned to the office, tearing off the wrapper from his picture as
he went. He glanced at it once before he opened the door. It was
Wicks--not so bald--not so aggressive of aspect, but Wicks beyond the
shadow of a doubt. On the back was written "Hiram Cleave."

Wicks turned upon him as he entered.

"I can't wait here all day while you conduct your business in the
hall," he said. "Who was the man outside?"

Garrison had grown singularly calm.

"That," he said, "was Foster Durgin."

"And you let him get away?" cried Wicks wrathfully. "Mr. Garrison----"

Garrison interrupted curtly.

"I took your advice and sent him to get the police. Good joke, isn't
it, to have him summon the officers to arrest the man who murdered his
uncle?"

Wicks had an intuition or a fear. He stared at Garrison wildly.
Garrison remained by the door.

"What do you mean to do?" demanded the visitor.

"Wait a few minutes and see," was Garrison's reply. "Meantime, here is
a photograph of the man who threatened Hardy's life. And, by the way,"
he added, holding the picture with its face toward himself, in attitude
of carelessness, "I forgot to say before that a man was seen entering
Hardy's room, in Hickwood, the night of the murder. He extracted two
cigars from the box presented to Hardy by his niece, and in their place
he deposited others, precisely like them, purchased at the same little
store in Amsterdam Avenue where she obtained hers, and bought,
moreover, within a very few minutes of her visit to the shop. All of
which bears upon the case."

Wicks was eying him now with a menacing, furtive glance that shifted
with extraordinary rapidity. He had paled a trifle about the mouth.

"Mr. Garrison," he said, "you are tr