o sinister. But he was, to some degree, apathetic from
over-much misery. Now, in reply to his father's words, he only nodded a
quiet assent.

"That wasn't wise under the circumstances," the father remonstrated
hurriedly. "However, now, Demarest and I are here to protect your
interests, so that you can talk freely." He went on with a little catch
of anxiety in his voice. "Now, Dick, tell us! Who killed that man? We
must know. Tell me."

Burke broke in impatiently, with his blustering fashion of address.

"Where did you get----?"

But Demarest raised a restraining hand.

"Wait, please!" he admonished the Inspector. "You wait a bit." He went
a step toward the young man. "Give the boy a chance," he said, and his
voice was very friendly as he went on speaking. "Dick, I don't want to
frighten you, but your position is really a dangerous one. Your only
chance is to speak with perfect frankness. I pledge you my word, I'm
telling the truth, Dick." There was profound concern in the lawyer's
thin face, and his voice, trained to oratorical arts, was emotionally
persuasive. "Dick, my boy, I want you to forget that I'm the District
Attorney, and remember only that I'm an old friend of yours, and of your
father's, who is trying very hard to help you. Surely, you can trust me.
Now, Dick, tell me: Who shot Griggs?"

There came a long pause. Burke's face was avid with desire for
knowledge, with the keen expectancy of the hunter on the trail, which
was characteristic of him in his professional work. The District
Attorney himself was less vitally eager, but his curiosity, as well as
his wish to escape from an embarrassing situation, showed openly on
his alert countenance. The heavy features of the father were twisting
a little in nervous spasms, for to him this hour was all anguish, since
his only son was in such horrible plight. Dick alone seemed almost
tranquil, though the outward calm was belied by the flickering of his
eyelids and the occasional involuntary movement of the lips. Finally he
spoke, in a cold, weary voice.

"I shot Griggs," he said.

Demarest realized subtly that his plea had failed, but he made ar effort
to resist the impression, to take the admission at its face value.

"Why?" he demanded.

Dick's answer came in the like unmeaning tones, and as wearily.

"Because I thought he was a burglar."

The District Attorney was beginning to feel his professional pride
aroused against this young man who so flagrantl