“He did; and while I do want to find the outside criminal, I can’t find him if he doesn’t exist.”
“Of course not. I daresay I shall regret what I’ve told you, but——”
“But you couldn’t help it, I know. Don’t worry, Mrs. Wheeler. If you’ve no great faith in me, try to have a hopeful trust, and I assure you I will not betray it.”
“Well, Mr. McGuire,” Stone said to his adoring satellite, a little later, “there’s one out.”
“Mother Wheeler?”
“Yes, you young scamp; how did you know?”
“Saw you hobnobbing with her—she being took with a sudden attack of the confidentials—and, anyhow, two of ’em—at least—has got to cave in. You can ferret out which of ’em is George Washingtons and which isn’t.”
“Well, here’s the way it seems to stand now. Mind, I only say seems to stand.”
“Yessir.”
“The father and daughter—both of whom confess to the shooting, were seen in the room immediately after the event. Now, they were on opposite sides of the room, the victim being about midway between them. Consequently, if one shot, the other was witness thereto. And, owing to the deep devotion obtaining between them, either father or daughter would confess to the crime to save the other.”