The colonel's theory, that some fellow countryman had supplied the East Indian means of escaping the electric chair, was generally accepted. And that Singa Phut was guilty of having killed his partner in a sudden fit of passion following one of their frequent quarrels was also believed by those who cared to exercise any thought in the matter.
"But what gets me, though," said the colonel, "is where does Singa Phut fit in with the watch in Mrs. Darcy's hand. That watch! Ah, there's a link I haven't had time to examine as I'd like to. I must see to it."
The colonel fell into a reverie. His eyes went to the closet where he had put away his fishing rods.
"Oh, friend Izaak!" he murmured, "How basely I have deserted you! But
I'm coming back. Yes, I'll stop this detective work. I'll wire for
Kedge to-night to come on and take up the case. He can do it as well
as I. I'll get Kedge!"
He started for the telephone to dictate a telegram. And then, as he chanced to look out of the window, a different expression came into his face.
Down on the sidewalk he saw Amy Mason walking slowly along. The girl's pretty face was drawn and careworn. Evidently the anxiety over Darcy was beginning to tell on her.
The old detective shook his head slowly.
"Oh, I suppose I can't back out now," he sighed. "I've gone too far.
It would look like quitting, and I never was a quitter!"
He straightened up to his soldierly height.
"Besides," he went on, "Kedge would only mix matters up now. He wouldn't know what to do, even if I told him. Kedge is all right for some things, but— Oh, well, I'll keep on with the case!"