"I am sorry that I cannot accommodate my friends out there," returned Elliston, with a frown; "but it is wholly out of the question. I think I will bid you good evening, Mr. Bernard. I cannot waste precious time here."
He turned and grasped the door-knob. It did not yield to his touch.
"Not just yet, Mr. Elliston," said Harry. "I wish to ask you a few questions."
"Well?"
"What do you know of the murder of Arnold Nicholson on the midnight express, south of Chicago, some weeks ago?"
"I read of it, of course."
Mr. Elliston pulled nervously at his glove as he answered.
"What do you know of the disappearance of Captain Osborne and the death of his daughter?" persisted Bernard.
"Do you suppose I have nothing to do but answer such nonsensical questions?" demanded Elliston, angrily. "Open this door and let me pass out."
"Not yet. I wish to tell you a little story, Mr. Elliston."