Bartley's eyes met Ranville's, and it was the Englishman who spoke:
“I am not so sure that they intended to kill you, Patton. Though if any one was to be killed, why you were the logical victim. What I think happened was this: they thought they killed you. You and the gardener are about the same build. You are both wearing a dark suit to-day, and your height is the same. When they shot at that man, they thought they were shooting you.”
“But—” Patton started in a bewildered voice. He was interrupted by Bartley's statement:
“Ranville is right, I think; but we might go even further. It is my idea that the murderer never discovered who it was he killed. He thought he killed Patton.”
“How do you make that out?” was Carter's question.
“I may be wrong, you understand. But it seems to me something like this happened. The gardener, when he said he could see any one come up the path, forgot it was an easy matter for a person to land on the shore in a boat. The trees would hide him from any person down by the gate. I have an idea also that the gardener never hurried about coming to the library. He took his own time and for some unknown reason went to the back door instead of the front one.”
“I don't see how you make that out,” broke in Patton.
“Look where he was killed,” came the quick response from Ranville.
“Yes,” said Bartley slowly. “Look where the body was lying. You find it on its face with one hand reaching for the door—the open door only a few inches away. The man was shot in the back while his face was turned away from the person who shot him. He fell, naturally, in the position in which we found him. And that makes me think the gardener came in the rear door, got several feet within the building, when all at once he saw the person engaged in destroying the manuscript.”
“But why did he turn to leave then?” was my question.