essing Britz. "What right have
you to come here and question this man, then arrest him without a
warrant? I protest against these proceedings! I won't permit Mr. Collins
to submit!"

Britz turned fiercely on him.

"Who are you?" he roared, as if aroused to a burning fury.

"I am a friend of Mr. Collins," returned Fanwell. "I won't permit a
friend of mine to be dragged to prison this way."

"Be careful--you are interfering with an officer of the law," cautioned
Britz.

"If you arrest him you might as well arrest me too," said Fanwell. "But
you won't keep us behind the bars long. I'm from the West, but thank
goodness! I have unlimited credit here. I know where to obtain bail--in
any amount."

"The charge against this man is murder in the first degree," Britz
retorted. "The crime is not bailable."

The information seemed to stagger Fanwell. He bestowed a compassionate
glance on the bewildered Collins, then executed a despairing gesture as
if he meant to convey that the situation had passed out of his hands.

"Collins, I believe you're innocent. Why don't you speak and clear
yourself?" urged Fanwell.

Coming, as it seemingly did, from a disinterested friend, the advice
struck Collins with peculiar force. He wavered, and, to encourage his
growing desire to talk, Britz withdrew the handcuffs.

"Let me think it over," he pleaded. "Perhaps I may change my mind--and
tell you everything."

"Better follow your friend's advice," urged Britz. "He has no
self-interest to serve. If you wait to consult with others, they'll only
advise you in a way that will best serve their interests, not yours.
Don't you think I'm right?" Britz asked Fanwell.

"Yes," came the quick reply.

"What do you think of it?" the detective asked Cooper.

"I'm an old friend of George," he answered. "I should advise him to
clear himself at once."

It did not occur to Collins that these three men were playing the same
game; that they were ranked in coalition against him. But before his
mind there hovered perpetually a vague presentiment of danger, that made
him mistrust his own impulse to yield to their urging.

"I can't do it!" he exclaimed despondently. "You wouldn't
understand--and you wouldn't believe me."

"If your story is true it ought to be easy enough to furnish proof of
it," retorted Britz.

The pitiless baiting to which Collins was being subjected was beginning
to tell on him. He turned his poor, befuddled head to one side, then