“Yes, you did!” Burdon took up the reins. “You ran downstairs, and just as you got down to the den you saw—you saw your husband shoot Mr. Appleby!”
His harsh manner, as he intended, frightened the nervous woman, and reduced her to the verge of collapse.
But after a gasping moment, she recovered herself, and cried out: “I did not! I shot Mr. Appleby myself. That’s why I’m so agitated.”
“I knew it!” exclaimed Burdon. “Mr. Wheeler’s confession was merely to save his wife. Now, Mrs. Wheeler, I believe your story, and I want all the particulars. First, why did you kill him?”
“Be—because he was my husband’s enemy—and I had stood it as long as I could.”
“H’m. And what did you do with the weapon you used?”
“I threw it out of the window.”
“And it dropped on the lawn?”
“Not dropped; I threw it far out—as far as I could.”
“Oh, I see. Out of which window?”