n, and clearly
they had no doubt that he held the one responsible for two brutal murders
and for the confusing mysteries that had capped them.

"Looks like a lady's hand," Rawlins called. "Don't let go, young fellow."

He unlocked the door to the private hallway. Graham and he dashed out. In
Bobby's uncertain grasp the hand twitched.

Robinson's voice reached him through the opening.

"Let go, Mr. Blackburn. You've done your share, the Lord knows. You've
caught the beast with the goods."

Bobby released the slender fingers. He saw them vanish through the
opening. He left the bed and reluctantly approached the door to the
private hall. Excited phrases roared in his ears. He scarcely dared
listen because of their possible confirmation of his doubt. The fingers,
he repeated to himself, had been too slender. The moment that had freed
him from fear of his own guilt had constructed in its place an
uncertainty harder to face. Yet there was nothing to be gained by
waiting. Sooner or later he must learn whether Katherine had hidden the
evidence, whether she had used the stout and deadly hatpin, whether she
struggled now in the grasp of vindictive men.

A voice from the corridor arrested him.

"Bobby!"

With a glad cry he swung around. Katherine stood in the opposite doorway.
Her presence there, beyond a doubt, was her exculpation. He crossed the
sombre room. He grasped her hands. He smiled happily. After all, the hand
he had held was not as slender as hers.

"Thank heavens you're here."

In a word he recited the result of his vigil.

"It clears you," she said. "Quick! We must see who it is."

But he lingered, for he wanted that ugly fear done with once for all.

"You can tell me now how the evidence got in your room."

"I can't," she said. "I don't know."

The truth of her reply impressed him. He looked at her and wondered that
she should be fully dressed.

"Why are you dressed?" he asked.

She was puzzled.

"Why not? I don't think any one had gone to bed."

"But it must be very late. I supposed it was the same
time--half-past two."

She started to cross the room. She laughed nervously.

"It isn't eleven."

He recalled his interminable anticipation among the shadows of the old
room.

"I've watched there only a little more than an hour!"

"Not much more than that, Bobby."

"What a coward! I'd have sworn it was nearly daylight."

She pressed his hand.

"No. Very brave," she whispered. "Let us se