But young McGuire’s face was a study.
He looked horror-stricken and then dazed. Then he had an inspiration apparently, for he smiled broadly—only to lapse again into a profound gloom.
“If it ain’t the beatin’est!” he said, at last. “Whatcha make of it, F. Stone?”
“I’m completely staggered for the moment. Fibs,” the detective returned, “but these cumulative evidences of Miss Mystery’s—er—acquisitive disposition, seem—I say seem to lead to a suspicion of her undue influence over Doctor Waring, at least, as to obtaining money.”
“Oh, she didn’t!” Lockwood fairly groaned. “Don’t blame her! Perhaps Waring fell a victim to her beauty and grace, and perhaps he urged these gifts upon her—”
“Perhaps,” Fibsy said; “perhaps he threatened to kill her if she didn’t accept his checks and coin and rubies!—and maybe she had to kill him in self-defense—”
“Self-defense!” Lockwood cried, grasping at any straw. “Could it have been that?”
“No,” Stone said; “be rational, man, whatever made Anita Austin kill Doctor Waring, it wasn’t a case of self-defense.”
CHAPTER XVII
PLANNING AN ELOPEMENT
There was some sort of telepathy or some subconscious impulse that made Anita Austin open her bedroom door in response to a light tap, although she had resolved to talk to nobody just then.