“Well, pass Wraxall,” he continued. “That leaves us with Freddie. I don’t like Freddie. I’ve nothing against his morals, for I know nothing about them. I do know he’s hard up, though. But I’ve been hard up myself at times. That doesn’t necessarily make a black mark on one’s record.”
“True,” Douglas agreed. Then after a few seconds he added: “Know the Scots verdict Not Proven, Conway? ‘The accused was discharged with a stain on his character. All saved, bar honour.’ That’s how you feel about Freddie, perhaps?”
“I’m not very friendly. The way that girl was baited to-night was enough to sicken any decent person. But there’s a difference between feeling like that and calling the little beast a thief, you know.”
“Not Proven; that’s so.”
Westenhanger considered for a few moments as though he found it difficult to choose words for what he had to say. At last he put down his pipe.
“There’s one thing, Douglas—that girl has got to be cleared. We’re all mixed up in that affair, thanks to Freddie’s infernal manœuvres; we can’t shirk responsibility. I don’t know what possessed her to go roaming about the house at that time of night. Still less can I imagine why she couldn’t tell us what she was after. But she’s a straight girl, if ever I saw one, and we simply can’t afford to let things rest as they are. I don’t want to know what she was doing—and I don’t much care. But the only way to clear her is to find out who actually did the trick. It’ll be a stiff business.”
Douglas looked serious.
“Stiff enough, if you ask me. If you want a Watson, I’m your man; but you’ll need to supply the Sherlocking yourself. I simply haven’t the brains for it. The whole affair is a complete mystery—and likely to remain so, for all the help I could give.”
“I’m not hopeful,” confessed Westenhanger at once. “The only detecting I ever did was guessing what cards were in my opponents’ hands. It’s not so much I expect to get anything out, Douglas. I feel one has to turn to and do what one can, or else I shouldn’t be comfortable. That girl’s face wasn’t a happy sight to-night. It’s got rather on my nerves, if you want to know.”
He took up his pipe again. Douglas said nothing, but his face showed that he understood Westenhanger’s account of his feelings.