die,"
Kent went on. "It was my desire that he should suffer. The one thing
which I shall not tell you is _why_ I killed him. But it was a sufficient
reason."
He saw the shuddering tremor that swept through the shoulders of the
girl who was putting down the condemning notes.
"And you refuse to confess your motive?"
"Absolutely--except that he had wronged me in a way that deserved
death."
"And you make this confession knowing that you are about to die?"
The flicker of a smile passed over Kent's lips. He looked at O'Connor
and for an instant saw in O'Connor's eyes a flash of their old
comradeship.
"Yes. Dr. Cardigan has told me. Otherwise I should have let the man in
the guard-house hang. It's simply that this accursed bullet has spoiled
my luck--and saved him!"
Kedsty spoke to the girl. For half an hour she read her notes, and
after that Kent wrote his name on the last page. Then Kedsty rose from
his chair.
"We have finished, gentlemen," he said.
They trailed out, the girl hurrying through the door first in her
desire to free herself of an ordeal that had strained every nerve in
her body. The commander of N Division was last to go. Cardigan
hesitated, as if to remain, but Kedsty motioned him on. It was Kedsty
who closed the door, and as he closed it he looked back, and for a
flash Kent met his eyes squarely. In that moment he received an
impression which he had not caught while the Inspector was in the room.
It was like an electrical shock in its unexpectedness, and Kedsty must
have seen the effect of it in his face, for he moved back quickly and
closed the door. In that instant Kent had seen in Kedsty's eyes and
face a look that was not only of horror, but what in the face and eyes
of another man he would have sworn was fear.
It was a gruesome moment in which to smile, but Kent smiled. The shock
was over. By the rules of the Criminal Code he knew that Kedsty even
now was instructing Staff-Sergeant O'Connor to detail an officer to
guard his door. The fact that he was ready to pop off at any moment
would make no difference in the regulations of the law. And Kedsty was
a stickler for the law as it was written. Through the closed door he
heard voices indistinctly. Then there were footsteps, dying away. He
could hear the heavy thump, thump of O'Connor's big feet. O'Connor had
always walked like that, even on the trail.
Softly then the door reopened, and Father Layonne, the little
missioner, came in
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