She gazed at him long and searchingly. A soft gleam penetrated the film of terror in her eyes.
“Yes, you are the Gray Phantom.” The words sounded hushed and strained. She came a step closer and placed her cold hand in his. There was a faint, tremulous smile on her lips. “Can you forgive me—for doubting you?”
“One little whisper from your lips makes everything right,” he murmured softly, gently drawing her from the room and locking the door.
“I couldn’t help it,” she whispered. “Everything seemed to point to your guilt.”
“It did,” admitted the Phantom, “and I don’t blame you. I suppose Granger lied to me when he told me he got into disgrace with the Duke’s gang because of his refusal to abduct you. He’s a skillful mixer of truth and fiction. What happened to you? Who kidnaped you?”
“One of Doctor Bimble’s men, I suppose. I slipped out of the laboratory while you and the doctor were reading the paper. I was sick at heart. What you had told me while we were in the closet expressed my feelings. It seemed as though an idol had fallen off its pedestal and broken to bits, like ordinary clay. Well, I had almost reached the front door when someone sneaked up behind me, thrust a black cloth down over my head and carried me upstairs. I must have been chloroformed, for shortly afterward I lost consciousness.
“The next day Granger called on me in the little room where they were keeping me. I think his object was to learn the location of Sea-Glimpse. I was—well, I was stubborn and wouldn’t tell him. I received a shock the moment I saw him and noted his striking resemblance to you. All at once I knew he was the murderer. It came to me in a flash, and of a sudden I understood the meaning of Gage’s statement.”
“There must be such a thing as feminine intuition, after all,” was the Phantom’s comment. “Of course you told him to his face that he was the murderer?”
“I guess I did. The words seemed to tumble out of themselves. I think I told Bimble the same thing that evening. He seemed greatly alarmed.”
The Phantom started. “Intuition is sometimes a very dangerous faculty,” he murmured. “It is very likely to—But this is no time for talking. Jepson will be dead to the world for some little time, but the house is bristling with gangsters. I must get you out of here somehow.”