"To seal his lips. If we had captured him, do you suppose Armand's secret would have been safe for an instant? So he had to kill him—he had to kill him with the poisoned barb—and he did kill him, and got away into the bargain! Never in my life have I felt so like a fool as when that door was slammed in my face!"
"Perhaps he had that prepared, too," I suggested timidly, ready to believe anything of this extraordinary man. "Perhaps he knew that we were there, all the time."
"Of course he did," assented Godfrey grimly. "Why else would there be a snap-lock on the outside of the door? And to think I didn't see it! To think that I was fool enough to suppose that I could follow him about the streets of New York without his knowing it! He knew from the first that he might be followed, and prepared for it!"
"But it's incredible!" I protested feebly. "It's incredible!"
"Nothing is incredible in connection with that man!"
"But the risk—think of the risk he ran!"
"What does he care for risks? He despises them—and rightly. He got away, didn't he?"
"Yes," I said, "he got away; there's no question of that, I guess."
"Well, that is the story of this afternoon's tragedy, as I understand it," proceeded Godfrey, more calmly. "And now I'm going to leave you. I want you to think it over. If it doesn't hold together, show me where it doesn't. But it will hold together—it has to—because it's true!"
"But how about Armand?" I protested. "Aren't you going to try to capture him? Are you going to let him get away?"