“Perhaps so. He spoke very loudly.”
“And your father’s reply—did you hear that?”
“Yes; I remember I paused an instant from curiosity. Father said, and I recall that his voice sounded rather harsh: ‘Then there is but one alternative.’ Then I went upstairs to my room. A few minutes afterward I heard the front door slam. Father did not retire until several hours afterward.”
“It was not his practice to do so?”
“No; he usually retired early. I don’t see what this has to do with the mystery—but then I am not a detective or a newspaper man.”
“It may have much to do with it,” murmurs Ashley. Miss Hathaway looks at him inquiringly.
“What do you think?” she asks.
“Candidly, I don’t know what to think,” he confesses.
“Will you permit me to turn inquisitor for a few moments?” Miss Hathaway requests. “There are one or two questions I should like to have answered.”
“I will answer a thousand,” replies Ashley cheerfully, as he meets the direct gaze of the young lady.