hese troubles had left any mark upon
him?"

"Yes," she answered. "We all did. My mother was the first to point
out that Bob often repeated himself. He was a man of great good
temper, but the war had made him rough and cynical in some respects.
He was impatient, yet, after he quarrelled or had a difference with
anybody, he would be quickly sorry; and he was never ashamed to
apologize."

"Did he quarrel often?"

"He was very opinionated and, of course, he had seen a good deal of
actual war. It had made him a little callous and he would sometimes
say things that shocked civilians. Then they would protest and make
him angry."

"You cared much for him? Forgive the question."

"I admired him and I had a good influence over him. There were fine
things in him--great bravery and honesty. Yes, I loved him and was
proud of him. I think he would have become calmer and less excitable
and impatient in time. Doctors had told him that he would outgrow
all effects of his shock."

"Was he a man you can conceive of as capable of striking or killing
a fellow creature?"

The lady hesitated.

"I only want to help him," she answered. "Therefore I say that,
given sufficient provocation, I can imagine Bob's temper flaring
out, and I can see that it would have been possible to him, in a
moment of passion, to strike down a man. He had seen much death and
was himself absolutely indifferent to danger. Yes, I can imagine him
doing an enemy, or fancied enemy, a hurt; but what I cannot imagine
him doing is what he is supposed to have done afterwards--evade the
consequence of a mistaken act."

"And yet we have the strongest testimony that he has tried to
conceal a murder--whether committed by himself, or somebody else, we
cannot yet say."

"I only hope and pray, for all our sakes, that you will find him,"
she replied, "but if, indeed, he has been betrayed into such an
awful crime, I do not think you will find him."

"Why not, Miss Reed? But I think I know. What is in your mind has
already passed through my own. The thought of suicide."

She nodded and put her handkerchief to her eyes.

"Yes; if poor Bob lost himself and then found himself and discovered
that he had killed an innocent man in a moment of passion, he would,
if I know him, do one of two things--either give himself up
instantly and explain all that had happened, or else destroy himself
as quickly as he could."

"Motive is not always adequate," Brendon told them. "A swif