The others remained below while Hughes and Iris went upstairs.
But after a few minutes they returned, and Hughes declared that all thought of any secret passage from Iris' room down to her aunt's sitting room was absolutely out of the question.
"This house is built about as complicatedly as a packing-box!" he laughed. "There's no cubby or corner unaccounted for. There are no thickened walls or unexplained bulges, or measurements that don't gee. No, sir-ee! However that wretch got out of that locked room, it was not by means of a secret exit. I'll stake my reputation on that! Now, having for the moment dismissed the question of means or method from my mind, I want to ask a few questions of one concerning whom, I frankly admit, I am in doubt. Mr. Bannard, you've no objection, of course, to replying?"
"Of course not," returned Bannard, but he suddenly paled.
Iris, too, turned white, and caught her breath quickly. "Don't you answer, Win," she cried; "don't you say a word without counsel!"
"Why, Iris, nonsense! Mr. Hughes isn't—isn't accusing me——"
"I'll put the questions, and you can do as you like about answering." Hughes spoke a little more gruffly than he had been doing, and looked sternly at his man.
"Were you up in this locality on Sunday afternoon, Mr. Bannard?"
"I was not. I've told you so before."
"That doesn't make it true. How do you explain the fact that Mrs. Pell made out to you a check dated last Sunday?"