No, she didn't do it," he said--"never! I don't believe it!"

The stricken man looked up gratefully, but his head sank forward again.
"He had done a horrible thing to her," he said. "You're right; you must
have my confidence if you are to help--us. He had tried to estrange
Dorothy from her mother. I--happened to be able to stop that. I used
what you told me to quiet him. I threatened to tell his son the whole
story. It was bluffing, for we knew nothing positive. But the story is
all true. He was putty in my hand when I held that threat over
him--putty. I went to him that night to dictate what he was to do in
case he obtained any clew of Mrs. Marteen. I thought she might try to
see him--to--reproach him. We knew she was very ill, had been when she
went away, and then--nerve shock. I went to him--and found him already
dead. You understand--Mrs. Marteen--I couldn't but believe--so I set the
stage for robbery. I bluffed it off with everyone. I gave the message to
lock up and leave Mahr undisturbed. I wanted an alibi for her--or at
least to gain time."

Brencherly remained silent. A man's devotion to another commands awed
respect, however it may manifest itself. But he was thinking rapidly.

"You know District Attorney Field, don't you?" he asked at length.

Gard nodded. "An old personal friend; but I can't go to him with that
story. I'd rather a thousand times he suspected me than give one clew
that would lead to her. I'll stick to my story. Field wouldn't cover up
a thing like that--he couldn't."

"I know," returned Brencherly; "there's got to be a victim for justice
first, or else prove that nothing, not even the ends of justice, can be
gained before you can get the wires pulled. But that's what I'm setting
out to do. I don't believe, Mr. Gard, that Mrs. Marteen committed that
murder--not that there may not have been plenty of reason for it, but
the way of it--no! I've got an idea. I don't want to say too much or
raise any hopes that I can't make good; but there's just this: when I
leave the house it will be to start on another trail. In the meantime,
everything is being done that is humanly possible to find Mrs. Marteen.
There's only one other way, and that, for the present, won't do--it's
newspaper publicity, photographic reproductions and a reward. I think
she is somewhere under an assumed name. But there are two lodestones
that will draw her if she is able to move. One is the house of Victor
Mahr, and the other he