"You did not know, of course, that Slade witnessed her departure from the Nettleton Building?"
"Did he? It is he, then, who has caused all this recent trouble?"
"In a way, yes. He furnished the material. I want to ask you something about that. Shortly after you disappeared he addressed an unsigned note to me, saying, in effect, that, if I found the woman—then much of a mystery—I should know who killed De Sanchez. He also said that you were innocent. Why should he make so obvious an attempt to divert suspicion from you?"
"I can't imagine. While I do not share with mother and Lottie the bitterness which the name of Slade arouses, yet I know very little of him; merely enough to nod in passing. The father was, doubtless, an unconscionable scoundrel; but William, in spite of his repulsive qualities, is in no wise to blame for that. I've always felt a sort of sneaking pity for him. The old fellow eyes me often in a peculiar, ruminative way—somewhat as he did when bestowing his 'blessing' upon General Westbrook. But he's a harmless crank."
"'Slade's Blessing,'" mused the Captain.
Clay nodded and went on: "You've heard of it, I see. He's a little touched, I believe. He sometimes mumbles when he looks at me,—a way he has; but pshaw! I never paid any attention to it; his incantations are harmless. In the early eighties, when the elder Slade closed in on dad, and dad died, William was still struggling with the law. Lord knows, I have reason to sympathize with him. Next, his father died, and he gave it up."
The young man asked how Slade came to see Joyce.
"In the most natural manner in the world," replied Converse. "Five o'clock is his customary hour for quitting work, as you probably know; he was just in the act of emerging from Room 6 when Miss Joyce ran past him. In fact, he had to step back to avoid a collision. This was immediately after she had surprised you, and she was so intent on getting away that she did not observe him at all, it would seem. She was running on tiptoe from the direction of the upper end of the hall and toward the stairs. That is the substance of an affidavit made by him before the Coroner."
Though the two talked some time longer, the discussion yielded nothing more until Converse was in the act of departing. He was standing on the veranda, when he said:
"By the way, it would be a good idea if you could make yourself inconspicuous for a while longer—until you hear from me, at any rate. If the reporters get a line upon what you happen to know, there will be the devil to pay."