But Richard Bates looked grave.
“Oh, I don’t know, Gibbs,” he said; “somebody must have started this trend toward my aunt, and it’s made me pretty miserable already. Now, need we take up a new trail with only a sort of surmise on this girl’s part. For, surely, she is by no means ready to make a positive accusation.”
“Out with it, Julie,” commanded the detective with no apparent notice of Bates’ demurrer.
“Well, it’s only this,” and Julie looked relieved at the thought of unburdening herself; “when I was in training, the girls used to talk of Kate Holland, who was there many years before, but who seemed to be a sort of a star pupil. I don’t remember much that they said, only she was renowned for her surgical skill, and when I heard Bob tell how the murderer of Sir Binney was a knowing one, I couldn’t help thinking about her. You know she’s Mrs Everett’s maid.”
“Oh, Lord!” Bates groaned, “don’t drag the Everetts into this thing! It’s bad enough to have my people spoken of without attacking the Everetts too!”
“Nobody has attacked them yet,” said Gibbs, dryly; “don’t go too fast.”
“But you will! You’ll suspect Kate because of what Julie has said, and then you’ll go on to Mrs Everett and——”
“H’m,—you seem to inherit your aunt’s trait of hasty speaking. Better stop where you are, Bates. Don’t put ideas into my head!”
“I don’t have to! You’re all primed to take up this new outlook. I knew Julie’s tales would upset things! Just because Mrs Everett’s maid has had training, doesn’t argue her a murderess!”
“Nobody said it did!” exclaimed Gibbs, angered at the young man’s words, partly because they were so in line with his own thoughts.