“Now, Miss Baxter, do you still deny all implication in the affair?” Gibbs leaned forward and stared into her eyes.
“I do!” she cried, but her voice was hysterical and her manner agitated. Vainly she strove to keep her self-control, but, unable to do so and broke into a fit of uncontrollable weeping.
“Oh, I say, Corson,” said tender-hearted Bates, “you oughtn’t to bully her! That’s nothing short of third degree!”
“Well, I’ll put it through, if I can get the truth that way. Now, Miss Baxter, if you’ll tell us, in your own self-defense where you were that night, you may go. If not, I think we’ll have to ask you to go away with us to——”
“Don’t take me away!” moaned Julie, “and don’t ask me about last night! I didn’t kill him—truly, I didn’t!”
“But you know something about it,—you must be detained as a material witness——”
“Wait till I talk to somebody—ask somebody’s advice——”
“She means Bob Moore,” Daisy informed them; “they’re engaged, and Julie’ll say just what Bob tells her to.”
“Oho! You’re engaged to Moore, eh?” and Gibbs gazed at her with fresh interest.
And then, stepping from the door of the elevator, came Dorcas Everett, and Richard Bates lost all desire to hear further evidence from the questioned girls.