"So far, so good, Mr. Busham," said Ellis, weary of this talk; "but what about the knife?"
"I called next morning at Myrtle Villa, after hearing of the murder. I searched the garden for traces of the criminal, and found that knife hidden behind some laurel bushes."
"It was not hidden," cried Mrs. Moxton. "It was thrown there by Edgar."
"Ah! you acknowledge that the knife is your property," said Busham.
"Why should I deny it? That knife is ours. It was tossed into the garden by Edgar."
"And this is rust on it, no doubt," said the lawyer, touching the stains. "Not blood, then, Mrs. Moxton?"
The widow rose with an agitated face, and, snatching up the will, thrust it into Busham's hand. "Take it, and say no more," she said harshly.
"Mrs. Moxton! The will!" cried Ellis, jumping up.
"Let him destroy it! Let him take and keep the money!"
"Thank you; and in return I will hold my tongue. If you like you can take the knife," said Busham.