"Well, then," replied Hickory, with a short glance at Mr. Ferris, "I believe (it's hard as pulling teeth to own it) that neither of them did it: that she thought him guilty and he thought her so, but that in reality the crime lies at the door of some third party totally disconnected with either of them."
"Such as Gouverneur Hildreth?" whispered Byrd.
"Such—as—Gouverneur Hildreth," drawled Hickory.
The two detectives eyed each other, smiled, and turned with relieved countenances toward the District Attorney. He was looking at them with great earnestness.
"That is your joint opinion?" he remarked.
"It is mine," cried Hickory, bringing his fist down on the table with a vim that made every individual article on it jump.
"It is and it is not mine," acquiesced Byrd, as the eye of Mr. Ferris turned in his direction. "Mr. Mansell may be innocent—indeed, after hearing Hickory's explanation of his conduct, I am ready to believe he is—but to say that Gouverneur Hildreth is guilty comes hard to me after the long struggle I have maintained in favor of his innocence. Yet, what other conclusion remains after an impartial view of the subject? None. Then why should I shrink from acknowledging I was at fault, or hesitate to admit a defeat where so many causes combined to mislead me?"
"Which means you agree with Hickory?" ventured the District Attorney.
Mr. Byrd slowly bowed.
Mr. Ferris continued for a moment looking alternately from one to the other; then he observed: