et."

It was signed by the chief of the Baltimore plain-clothes force.

"What do you think of that?" asked Braceway, his voice hard.

"This Morley," answered Bristow, his voice equally hard, "must have lost
his mind."

They went down and took a cab.

"That description," the lame man was thinking, as they rolled through the
streets toward the northwest part of the city, "fits Withers perfectly,
except for the moustache and the colour of the eyes. But that's absurd.
I'd like to----"

He began again to wonder what, in addition to the capture of the guilty
man, had brought Braceway to Washington. With his highly sensitized
brain, he had received the impression that there was joined to the case
some event or interest of which he had not the slightest inkling. How was
Morley hooked up with the hidden phase of the affair? He intended to know
all they knew about the whole business.

If Morley knew the secret--there was Maria Fulton! Incredulous for a
moment, he considered an entirely new idea. His incredulity vanished--and
he knew!

He lay back against the cab cushion and laughed, silently. His mirth
grew. His laughter was almost beyond control. This was the thing that had
bothered him, the "hidden angle" that had escaped him. He laughed until
he shook. He had to put his hand to his mouth to prevent bursting into
prolonged, riotous guffaws.

That was it--Withers and Fulton, and Braceway of course, were afraid of
Morley, afraid of what he might say; not about events of the night of
the murder, but what he might reveal concerning----

He struggled again with his consuming mirth. He saw now that he had
handled everything exactly as it should have been handled.

Now, more than ever before, he was interested in what the embezzler would
say under their examination and cross-questioning. It was like a game in
which he, Bristow, was the assured winner before even the first move was
made. He knew already the very thing they were so intent on concealing.

CHAPTER XXII

A CONFESSION

Bristow, satisfied now that he had fathomed Braceway's reluctance to
accept as final the case against Perry Carpenter, had not been the only
one mystified by the detective's course. Practically every other
detective and police official in the country was wondering what secret
motive had impelled Braceway to keep public attention focused on the
tragedy after a flawless case against the real murderer had been
established.

They knew