as the best he could do, and it
shamed him, for he knew its weakness. Again, wrath surged in him, and
it surged high. He welcomed the advent of Cassidy, who came hurrying in
with a grin of satisfaction on his stolid face.

"Say, Chief," the detective said with animation, in response to Burke's
glance of inquiry, "we've got Garson."

Mary's face fell, though the change of expression was almost
imperceptible. Only Demarest, a student of much experience, observed the
fleeting display of repressed emotion. When the Inspector took thought
to look at her, she was as impassive as before. Yet, he was minded to
try another ruse in his desire to defeat the intelligence of this woman.
To this end, he asked Gilder and the District Attorney to withdraw,
while he should have a private conversation with the prisoner. As she
listened to his request, Mary smiled again in sphinx-like fashion, and
there was still on her lips an expression that caused the official a
pang of doubt, when, at last, the two were left alone together, and he
darted a surreptitious glance toward her. Nevertheless, he pressed on
his device valiantly.

"Now," he said, with a marked softening of manner, "I'm going to be your
friend."

"Are you?" Mary's tone was non-committal.

"Yes," Burke declared, heartily. "And I mean it! Give up the truth about
young Gilder. I know he shot Griggs, of course. But I'm not taking any
stock in that burglar story--not a little bit! No court would, either.
What was really back of the killing?" Burke's eyes narrowed cunningly.
"Was he jealous of Griggs? Well, that's what he might do then. He's
always been a worthless young cub. A rotten deal like this would
be about his gait, I guess.... Tell me, now: Why did he shoot Eddie
Griggs?"

There was coarseness a-plenty in the Inspector's pretense, but it
possessed a solitary fundamental virtue: it played on the heart of the
woman whom he questioned, aroused it to wrath in defense of her mate. In
a second, all poise fled from this girl whose soul was blossoming in the
blest realization that a man loved her purely, unselfishly. Her words
came stumblingly in their haste. Her eyes were near to black in their
anger.

"He didn't kill him! He didn't kill him!" she fairly hissed. "Why, he's
the most wonderful man in the world. You shan't hurt him! Nobody shall
hurt him! I'll fight to the end of my life for Dick Gilder!"

Burke was beaming joyously. At last--a long last!--his finesse had wo