“I don’t know. I haven’t asked him. Oh, Ivy, he didn’t?—he couldn’t——”
“Maybe he could. Louis is not much on the strong-arm work, but he has desperate determination, and if he went there to get that money—and if Mr Gleason wouldn’t give it to him—let me see—I suppose Gleason must have said that his condition was your acceptance of his suit!”
“I suppose so,” Phyllis agreed. “He knew how I love Louis, and he often tried to get him to persuade me to do various things. Louis is my idol. I’ve always adored him. I really brought him up, for mother died when he was so little. We’re far closer to one another than most brothers and sisters. Oh, Ivy, what can I do?”
“Hush, let me think. I wish I wasn’t so sure Louis did the thing. But, you see, he was right there—johnny-on-the-spot! And he was mad—and he was desperate—and Mr Gleason’s pistol was handy-by—and he was at the end of his rope—alone with him there—oh, of course, it was inevitable. How has he acted since?”
“Queerly,” Phyllis admitted. “He’s nervous and jumpy, and afraid of everybody.”
“Of course he is. Well, Phyllis, he’ll have to run away.”
“Oh, no!”
“Yes, he will. It’s all very well to be shocked at the idea, and to prefer to have him face the music—but the risk is too great! Even if he should be innocent—and he can’t be—they’d put him through with bells on!”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean as soon as the police get Louis in their mind as a suspect, they’ll pounce on him, and they’ll fasten it on him, no matter what he says.”