man who lets his artistic temperament get the better of him. Had
he allowed Cuthbert to slay both the--Mr. Stockbridge and yourself over
the 'phone, he would never have solved the case. It was the telephoning
from Sing Sing that opened up the entire matter."

"The inevitable slip!" exclaimed Nichols.

"Yes," said Drew. "They all make it. I could tell you of a thousand
instances. But back of the inevitable slip, as you call it, is
something deeper. It has not often been mentioned in dealing with
criminals."

"What is it?" asked Loris.

"Ego! Criminal ego! Most transgressors would go to the electric chair
if the newspapers would write enough about them."

Loris raised her brows. "Is that the reason," she asked, "why Morphy
telephoned before he killed poor father?"

"Exactly!" declared the detective. "Ego explains much that we call
revenge. Now," he added, glancing about and at a tiny clock on a
cabinet. "Now the questions from everybody! Make them short. Mr.
Delaney and I will leave in ten minutes."

Nichols glanced at Loris. "You first," he said.

"I've just one or two, Mr. Drew," she said.

"What are they?"

"Why did that poor dead man spare my life when he called me up the
first time? He could have killed me then."

"I explained that. It wasn't _his_ vendetta."

"Vendetta?"

"That is what this case is. An almost successful attempt to wipe out,
or I should say obliterate, the Stockbridge Family--root and branch.
Morphy had nursed the thing for over a year. He had soured up there in
prison. His mind became abnormal. He conceived an abnormal revenge.
Also a personal one. He had every reason to believe that he would never
be discovered."

"Then, Mr. Drew, he would have called me up on the phone later and done
what he did--to father? He would have told me who he was over the
telephone, and--and----"

"Yes, Miss Stockbridge. Yes, be calm, though. He is beyond the pale
now. You will never hear from him again. Be assured of that!"

Drew leaned in his chair and glanced at Delaney. The big operative
fidgeted in his seat, squirmed, reached for the tea-pot, then drew back
his hand and started drumming the table with his fingers.

Nichols disengaged his arm from behind Loris and squared his shoulders.
He moved forward. "I'm going to ask a question for Miss Stockbridge,"
he said. "Did you ever suspect her?"

"Never!" declared Drew.

"Or me?"

The detective hesitated before he answered. His smile cleared th