"Then he must be guilty," said Kilsip, promptly.
"Not necessarily," returned the barrister, drily.
"But if he wants to save his neck, he'll have to prove an ALIBI," persisted the other.
"That's just where the point is," answered Calton. "He doesn't want to save his neck."
Kilsip, looking rather bewildered, took a sip of whisky, and waited to hear what Mr. Calton had to say.
"The fact is," said Calton, lighting a fresh cigar, "he has some extraordinary idea in his head. He refuses absolutely to say where he was on that night."
"I understand," said Kilsip, nodding his head. "Woman?"
"No, nothing of the kind," retorted Calton, hastily. "I thought so at first, but I was wrong. He went to see a dying woman, who wished to tell him something."
"What about?"
"That's just what I can't tell you," answered Calton quickly. "It must have been something important, for she sent for him in great haste—and he was by her bedside between the hours of one and two on Friday morning."