He took the chair and putting his elbows on the table, raised his hands, clasped together, and leaned his mouth on them. The light fell full on his face and over those clasped hands his eyes stared at me so fixed and steady they looked the eyes of an image. I don't think while I told him he ever batted a lid and I know he never said a word.
"So you see," I said, when I was through, "Ford's as much out of it as you are."
Without moving his hands he asked:
"What do they think?"
"Why, what do you suppose they think? Instead of there being three of them in it there were two."
"They think she and Barker did it?"
"Of course. They've worked it out this way"—I leaned over the table, my voice low, giving him the details of their new theory. As I told it there was something terrible in those eyes. All the kindness went out of them and a fire came in its place till they looked like crystals with a flame behind them.
When I finished he spoke and this time his voice sounded different, hoarse and muffled:
"Have they made any plan? Decided on their next step?"
"They've got it all arranged," and I went on about the interview that was planned for the next morning. "With her thinking herself safe the way she does, they're sure they can give her such a jolt she'll lose her nerve and tell."