Before he could get out another word he was seized and handcuffed. I blew my whistle, and Jack came up. Directing him in an undertone to remain in the passage till I called for him, I followed Wheeler and Bob Garlick into the room where they had conveyed their prisoner, Mrs. Fordham having run in first. She was panting as though she had lost her breath. Maxwell had said nothing more in the dark passage, his impression being, of course, that the police were upon him, and that silence would best serve him. When I entered he was safe in the grasp of my assistants, and was glaring at Mrs. Fordham and Louis, neither of whom had the courage to meet his eye.
"Have you searched him?" I asked of my assistants. They shook their heads. "Well, let us see what he has in his pockets."
We turned them out, the slight resistance he was able to make being of no avail. There was a loaded pistol, money, keys, and other oddments, and a pocketbook, containing letters and memoranda. Some of the letters were old and some recently written. Among the old letters were two signed by Morgan before the Liverpool affair, the contents of which proved the association of the two men for the purpose of robbing Louis. The recent letters were from Mrs. Fordham, and my hurried perusal of them left no doubt as to the nature of the intimacy between her and Maxwell. It was a ticklish position for a woman—on one side a lover, on the other a son whom she worshiped; but she had made her choice, and there was no retreat for her.
While I was examining the letters there was no sound in the room except the rustling of the papers. The truth dawned slowly upon Maxwell, and his face grew darker and darker as he gazed upon the forms of his confederates. He could no longer control himself.
"—— you all!" he cried. "What is the meaning of this?"
"You are charged with the murder of a man you knew by the name of Morgan in Liverpool," I replied.
"It's an infernal lie!" he shouted. "And you—what have you to say to it?" He addressed this question to Louis and Mrs. Fordham, but neither of the two answered him. "So," he said, between his teeth, while a deadly pallor spread over his features, "you have laid a trap for me, after all I have done to save you. There stands the murderer"—with a nod of his head towards Louis—"and I am ready to give evidence against him."
"What kind of evidence?" I asked.
"The evidence of an eye witness," he said. "I saw him do it—saw him strike Morgan down!"
"Ah," said I, and I stepped to the door, and beckoned Jack in. "What do you think of your ghost now, Jack?" His face beamed, and then his eyes wandered from Louis to Maxwell. "Don't you know an old pal when you see him? But I forgot. He has something on him which does not properly belong to him."