Turner,
I don't know a thing--not a thing!"

It was the thought of possible peril to her that now, in an instant, had
caused him to forget his own mortal danger. Where, before, he had been
shuddering over thoughts of the death-house cell that might be awaiting
him, he now had concern only for the safety of the woman he cherished.
And there was a great grief in his soul; for it was borne in on him that
his own folly, in disobedience to her command, had led up to the murder
of Griggs--and to all that might come of the crime. How could he ever
make amends to her? At least, he could be brave here, for her sake, if
not for his own.

Burke believed that his opportunity was come.

"What made you think I wanted to know anything about her?" he
questioned.

"Oh, I can't exactly say," Garson replied carelessly, in an attempt to
dissimulate his agitation. "You were up to the house, you know. Don't
you see?"

"I did want to see her, that's a fact," Burke admitted. He kept on with
his writing, his head bent low. "But she wasn't at her flat. I guess she
must have taken my advice, and skipped out. Clever girl, that!"

Garson contrived to present an aspect of comparative indifference.

"Yes," he agreed. "I was thinking of going West, myself," he ventured.

"Oh, were you?" Burke exclaimed; and, now, there was a new note in
his voice. His hand slipped into the pocket where was the pistol, and
clutched it. He stared at Garson fiercely, and spoke with a rush of the
words:

"Why did you kill Eddie Griggs?"

"I didn't kill him!" The reply was quick enough, but it came weakly.
Again, Garson was forced to wet his lips with a dry tongue, and to
swallow painfully. "I tell you, I didn't kill him!" he repeated at last,
with more force.

Burke sneered his disbelief.

"You killed him last night--with this!" he cried, viciously. On the
instant, the pistol leaped into view, pointed straight at Garson. "Why?"
the Inspector shouted. "Come on, now! Why?"

"I didn't, I tell you!" Garson was growing stronger, since at last
the crisis was upon him. He got to his feet with lithe swiftness
of movement, and sprang close to the desk. He bent his head forward
challengingly, to meet the glare of his accuser's eyes. There was no
flinching in his own steely stare. His nerves had ceased their jangling
under the tautening of necessity.

"You did!" Burke vociferated. He put his whole will into the assertion
of guilt, to batter down the man's resistan