Louis was to get the girl
and sell his rights to Simon. But afterward, when he had spent the
money Simon had given him, he thought he could get more out of Carson.
So he went to him and told the secret. That made four of us--four of
us, where there should have been only two."

"What did you do?" I asked, though it was like conducting a postmortem
upon a murderer's corpse.

"I went to New York to get my share. I wasn't going to be ousted, I,
who had been one of the discoverers. I don't know how much Carson paid
Louis, but I meant to demand half. I thought he had the money in his
pocket.

"I followed him all that afternoon after he had left Carson's office.
I watched him in the street. At night he went to a room somewhere--at
the top of a tall building. I followed him. When I got in I found a
woman there. Louis was talking to her and threatening her. He said
she was his wife. How could she be his wife when he had married
Jacqueline Duchaine?

"I didn't care--it was no business of mine. I couldn't see them,
because there was a curtain in the way. There was no light in the
bedroom. There was a light in the room in which I was. I put it out,
so that neither of them should see my face. She might have betrayed
me, you know, Simon.

"He spun round when the light went out, and pushed the curtain aside.
I was waiting for that. I had calculated my blow. I stabbed him. It
was a good blow, though it was delivered in the dark. He only cried
out once. But the woman screamed, and a dog flew at me, and I couldn't
find his money. So I ran away.

"And then there were only three of us who knew the secret. Then Simon
died and there were only two, and now there are only Hewlett and I, and
he is dead, poor fool, and I have my gold here. For God's sake give me
a knife, Simon!"

His fingers tore at my sleeve in his last agony, and I was tempted
sorely. And it was his own knife that I had. The irony of it!

He muttered once or twice and cried out in fear of the man whom he had
slain. I heard him gasp a little later. Then the hand fell from my
sleeve. And after that there was no further sound.

"Paul!"

It was the merest whisper from the wall. I thought it was a trick of
my own mind. I dared not hope.

"Paul! Dearest!"

This was no fancy born of a delirious brain and the thick fumes of
dynamite. It came from the wall a little way ahead of me. I crawled
the three feet that the little cave affor