could strike. As it is, I've been foiled. I've got Krevin Crood,
and I've got Simon Crood--safely under lock and key. But I haven't got
the other two!"

"What other two?" exclaimed Brent.

Hawthwaite smiled sourly.

"What other two?" he repeated. "Why, Mallett and Coppinger! They're off,
though how the devil they got wind of what was going on I can't think.
Leaked out, somehow."

"You suspect them too?" asked Brent.

"Suspect!" sneered Hawthwaite. "Lord! You wait till Simon and Krevin are
brought up before the magistrates to-morrow morning! We've got the whole
evidence so absolutely full and clear that we can go right full steam
ahead with the case to-morrow. Meeking'll prosecute, and I hope to get
'em committed before the afternoon's over."

"Look here," said Brent, "tell me--what's the line? How does the thing
stand?"

"Thus," replied Hawthwaite. "We shall charge Krevin with the murder of
your cousin, and Simon with being accessory to the fact."

"Before or after?" asked Brent.

"Before!"

"And those other two--Mallett and Coppinger?"

"Same charge as Simon."

Brent took a turn or two about the room.

"That," he remarked, pausing at last in front of Hawthwaite's desk,
"means that there was a conspiracy?"

"To be sure!" assented Hawthwaite. "Got proof of it!"

"Then I wish you'd laid hands on Mallett and Coppinger," said Brent.
"You've no idea of their whereabouts, I suppose?"

"None, so far," replied Hawthwaite. "Nor can I make out how or precisely
when they slipped off. But they are off. Oddly enough, Mrs. Mallett's
back in the town--I saw and spoke to her an hour ago. Of course she
knows nothing about Mallett. She didn't come back to him. I don't know
what she came back for. She's staying with friends, down Waterdale."

"What time will these men be brought up to-morrow morning?" asked Brent.

"Ten o'clock sharp," answered Hawthwaite. "And I hope that before the
end of the afternoon they'll have been fully committed to take their
trial! As I said just now, we can go straight on. Careful preparation
makes speedy achievement, Mr. Brent! And by the Lord Harry, we've done
some preparing!"

"If only the whole thing is cleared ... at last," said Brent quietly.
"You think ... now ... it will be?"

Hawthwaite smacked his hand on his blotting-pad.

"Haven't the shadow of a doubt, Mr. Brent, that Krevin Crood murdered
your cousin!" he asserted. "But you'll hear for yourself to-morrow. Come
early. An