n the divan, smoking with easy indifference. His
clothing and his shoes were spotless. He had shaved, and his beard had
been freshly trimmed. Rawlins and the district attorney stood in front of
the fireplace, studying him with perplexed eyes. The persistence of their
regard even after Bobby's entrance suggested to him that the evidence
remained secreted, that the officers, under the circumstances, were
scarcely interested in his return. He was swept himself into an explosive
amazement:

"Carlos! What the deuce are you doing here?"

The Panamanian expelled a cloud of smoke. He smiled.

"Resting after a fatiguing walk."

In his unexpected presence Bobby fancied a demolition of the hope Graham
and he had brought back from the city. He couldn't imagine guilt lurking
behind that serene manner.

"Where did you come from? What were you up to last night?"

There was no accounting for Paredes's daring, he told himself, no
accounting for his easy gesture now as he drew again at his cigarette
and tossed it in the fireplace.

"These gentlemen," he said, "have been asking just that question. I'm
honoured. I had no idea my movements were of such interest. I've told
them that I took a stroll. The night was over. There was no point in
going to bed, and all day I had been without exercise."

"Yet," Graham said harshly, "you have had practically no sleep since you
came here."

Paredes nodded.

"Very distressing, isn't it?"

"Maybe," Rawlins sneered, "you'll tell us why you went on tiptoe, and I
suppose you didn't hear a woman crying in the woods?"

"That's just it," Paredes answered. "I did hear something like that, and
it occurred to me to follow such a curious sound. So I went on tiptoe, as
you call it."

"Why," Robinson exclaimed angrily, "you walked in the lake to hide
your tracks!"

Paredes smiled.

"It was very dark. That was chance. Quite silly of me. My feet got wet."

"I gather," Rawlins said, "it was chance that took you to the
deserted house."

Paredes shook his head.

"Don't you think I was as much puzzled as the rest by that strange,
disappearing light? It was as good a place to walk as any."

"Where have you been since?" Graham asked.

"When I had got there I was tired," Paredes answered. "Since it wasn't
far to the station I thought I'd go on into Smithtown and have a bath and
rest. But I assure you I've trudged back from the station just now."

Suddenly he repeated the apparently absurd formula