“Merely an old friend. We were good chums in Denver.”
“Then why did you pretend you were strangers?”
“Oh, you know, Avice, I wanted that money right then and there. When Uncle wouldn’t give it to me I telephoned and asked Eleanor to lend it to me. She said she’d meet me at the library and bring some bonds that I could sell.”
“Why didn’t you come to the house?”
“I didn’t want to,—on that errand. I suppose I was foolish, but my pride stood in my way. And, too, there was haste. I wanted to send the money out West at once, and then, knowing the mine business was all right, go and see you with a free mind.”
“Well, and then you did meet Eleanor at the Library, but you said at the inquest that you didn’t get the money.”
“What a little cross-examiner it is! No, the bonds she brought me, were some that are now at a low price, but are sure to go up soon. I couldn’t do her the injustice of selling them at the present market, so I refused.”
“And she telephoned you late that night.”
“Yes, to tell me of Uncle’s death. She was the only one who knew I was at Lindsay’s apartment. Of course, dear, I had expected to see you that day, but I was so upset by my quarrel with Uncle Rowland,—he was pretty hard on me,—that I couldn’t trust myself to see him till my temper had cooled off a little. Don’t be jealous of Eleanor Black, Avice, she is a firm friend of yours. She is a frivolous, shallow-hearted woman, but she is a strong and loyal friend. And she was really fond of Uncle, though she doesn’t seem to mourn for him very deeply.”
“And she doesn’t care who killed him!”