“Meaning that whatever there is to be learned must be found out here in this house,—not from any of those onlookers.”
“Sensible talk,” said Doctor Varian, “but how shall we set about it?”
“I don’t know. I’m not possessed of what is called detective instinct, nor am I especially clever at solving puzzles. But I have determination, and I’m going to devote my whole time and energy to finding Betty Varian!”
“Well said, young man,” put in Potter, who was listening, “but untrained sleuthing is not often productive of great results.”
“I don’t mean sleuthing, exactly,” and Granniss looked at him squarely, “I am untrained. But I’m willing to be advised, I’m willing to be dictated to; I only ask to help.”
“You’re a brick!” said Janet; “I shouldn’t be surprised if you succeed better than the detectives.”
“If so, it will be because of my more personal interest in the case. I ought to tell you, Mrs Varian, that Betty and I are practically engaged. It depended, of course, on her father’s consent——”
“And that he refused to give?” asked Potter.
“Yes, he did. Which immediately ticketed me as his murderer in the eyes of Mr Dunn. But I’m not a criminal, and I didn’t shoot Mr Varian. I shan’t insist on this point, because you can prove my words true for yourself. Now, I’d like a talk with Mrs Varian,—Betty’s mother,—when such a thing is possible—and convenient.”
“I’m not sure but it would be a good thing,” said Doctor Varian, thoughtfully; “when she wakes, Mr Granniss, she will either be hysterical still, and in need of further opiate treatment, or,—and which I think more likely,—she will be calm, composed and alert minded. In the latter case, she might be glad to talk to the man who cares so much for her daughter.”