"You did not know this dead girl?"
Dyke Darrel pointed toward the face in the coffin.
"I did not."
"Will you swear to this also?"
"With my hand on my heart I swear."
The white hand of Mr. Elliston was laid impressively against his bosom.
There was such a look of honest earnestness on the man's face it was impossible to doubt, and Dyke Darrel was forced to forego arresting the New Yorker then and there.
If he was not fully satisfied, he did not permit Elliston to note the fact.
"I did but try you, Harper," Dyke Darrel said with a smile, extending his hand. "You are true as steel and I am glad to find it so. I have endured misery since last night, because I feared, and came to believe otherwise."
"You will trust me as of old?"