ad been added to the
blackmail or whatever it was. And the theory of his guilt was weakened.

"Mr. Withers has told me," Bristow said, "that there was a repetition of
the pawning of the jewels in Washington about a year ago."

"That's true," confirmed Fulton. "But on that occasion I knew nothing of
what had happened until Enid came to me, again with the request that I
redeem the jewelry. Her husband had arrived in Washington unexpectedly,
precipitating the crisis. I gave her the money. The sum this time was
eight thousand dollars."

"And that ended it, Mr. Fulton?"

The old man looked out again toward the mountains as if he sought to gain
some of their serenity.

"No. That time I asked her what troubled her. I explained that I would
blame her for nothing, that I only wanted to help her, to give her
comfort. But she wouldn't tell me anything. She declared that nobody
could help her and that, anyway, there would never be a repetition of the
extortion.

"She wept bitterly--I can hear her weeping now--and she begged me to
believe that she had been guilty of nothing--nothing criminal or immoral.
I told her I could never believe that of her.

"'It doesn't affect me alone. I'll have to fight it out the best way I
can,' was all the explanation she could bring herself to give me. The one
fact she revealed was that the man concerned in the Atlantic City affair
had also been responsible for her trouble in Washington."

Bristow, absorbed in every word of the story, recollected at once that
Mrs. Allen had received the same explanation when she had tried to
comfort Mrs. Withers.

"By George!" said Braceway, his voice a little husky. "She was game all
right--game to the finish."

"I think," said Fulton, relaxing suddenly so that his whole form seemed
to sag and grow weak, "that's all I wanted to tell you. It's all I can
tell--all I know. I wanted to show you that this man with the gold tooth
and the brown beard is no myth, as you seem to believe.

"Make no mistake about him, gentlemen. He has ability, ability which he
uses only for unworthy ends." The old man sucked in his lips and bit on
them. "He's elusive, slippery, working always in the dark.

"He's low, base. He wouldn't stop at murder. And I'm certain he was
the principal figure in my daughter's death. Nothing--no power on
earth--nobody can ever make me believe that Enid was murdered by the
negro. It doesn't fit in with what has gone before."

"If there's any way