"It might be so," said Ellis, reflectively. "Janet Gordon may have rushed out of the house with that knife and have killed Moxton, and afterwards she may have ran weeping to take a cab from so perilous a place. But why did she stab the man? Why? Why?" and Ellis, according to custom, began to pace the room.
"Ah," said Cass, who was resting on the sofa, "you must ask Mrs. Moxton for a reply to that question."
"She won't reply to it. For some reason which I cannot fathom she persistently keeps me in the dark."
"H'm!" mused the journalist. "A dangerous, secretive woman! Don't get your back up, Bob, I am not calling her names. But you must admit that she is secretive, and secretive people are always very dangerous to those of a more open disposition. But how did Mrs. Moxton excuse herself for letting Busham burn the will?"
"I don't know, Harry. I have not seen her since she left the office with that knife concealed in her pocket."
"What! Did she not wait for you outside?"
"No," replied Ellis, gloomily, "there was not a sign of her, although I searched all round. What is queerer still, she has not been home since. I have called twice at Myrtle Villa this afternoon, but no one is there."
"Queer. I wonder what she is up to. After all, Bob, the burning of the will does not amount to much. Mrs. Moxton, as the dead man's widow, retains half the money. Busham has not got the whole."
"No, but he will get it," said the doctor, vehemently. "He'll not keep silence in spite of her giving up half. He will blackmail her into giving up the whole by threatening to betray her sister."
"You forget. By burning the will he has committed a felony. If Mrs. Moxton is clever she can checkmate him with that."