"That's unfortunate," muttered Cannington, his eyes on the carpet; "perhaps this person killed Mrs. Caldershaw."
I had Gertrude's assertion that this was not the case, but for obvious reasons could not impart the information to Cannington. "We can't be sure of that," I said smoothly.
"We can't be sure of anything," insisted the boy thoughtfully, "still Miss Monk evidently left someone with Mrs. Caldershaw, and when you arrived on the scene Mrs. Caldershaw was dead. It seems to be that the lady killed her."
"The lady? Why do you think that this person was a lady?"
"Well, a woman, a female, what you will," he said impatiently. "She assumed the white cloak which was left behind in the kitchen, and ran off with your motor car."
"And with the eye?"
"Ah, I can't say I'm sure on that point," said Cannington musingly. "You see the eye turned up--so you say--at the Burwain house. I think----" He paused.
"Yes; go on," said I encouragingly.
He shook his head. "I don't know what to think, Vance. The whole matter is most mysterious and perplexing. Give me a night to think about the matter. It is strange," he said suddenly, "that Miss Monk wants you to leave the matter alone."
"It is strange," I assented, and winced; "but there it is."