Garrison remained by the door. He was cutting the string on the package when a second knock on the glass behind him gave him a start.
He opened the door. A small, rather smiling young man was in the hall.
"Mr. Garrison?" he said. "My name is——"
"How do you do?" Garrison interrupted loudly, having instantly recognized Foster Durgin, from a strong resemblance to his older brother, and instantly calling out: "Excuse me a moment, Mr. Wicks," stepped out in the hall and closed the door.
"My name is Durgin," said the visitor. "I called before——"
"I know," interrupted Garrison, moving down the hall and speaking in a voice so low he was certain Wicks could hear nothing, from behind the door, even should he try. "I've been expecting you. I want you to do something quickly, before we try to have a talk. I want you to go downstairs, ring up police headquarters and ask for a couple of officers to come as quickly as they can travel."
"What for? I don't——"
"I've got to arrest the man who murdered your uncle," said Garrison, using the most searching and startling method at command to put young Durgin to the test of guilt or innocence. "Act first and come back afterward!"
"I'm with you!" said Durgin. "Got him, have you?—what's his name?"
He was innocent.