Why had the police taken the blotting-pad? He could not remember having written any letters on the day of the race. Yet the blotting-pad must have contained evidence of some sort or the police would not have taken it. If the cheque had been altered in his rooms and blotted on that pad——
His body broke out into a sweat. He dropped back into the chair and sat gazing into the fire.
His suspicions would no longer be stifled. He still fought them, but it was useless. He reasoned with himself, he argued with himself. But the more he reasoned the more firmly did his suspicions take root.
Ruby had never backed Ambuscade for him at all. She had told a lie to save his life!
And, having saved his life, she had had to find the money which, she told him, they had won, and without which he had confessed he dared not face life.
How had she obtained that money?
He heard the question answered again and again, but he dared not listen. He put his hands over his ears and rocked himself to and fro in agony.
To save him Ruby had sacrificed herself. She could not have known what she was doing. She must have been mad at the time.... As mad as he when he had taken his revolver and placed it over his heart intending self-destruction.
Dawn was in the sky before he went to bed. The sun was commencing to rise before he slept. For sleep only came when he had made up his mind what he would do when a few hours later he met Sir Reginald Crichton.
CHAPTER VIII.