They both bowed assent. At the same moment the telephone rang. Bristow excused himself and answered it. The chief of police was on the wire.
"It's all over!" his voice sounded jubilantly. "It's all over, and I want you to congratulate me, congratulate me and yourself. It was quick work."
"What do you mean?" queried Bristow.
"The inquest is over. The coroner's jury found that Mrs. Withers came to her death at the hands of Perry Carpenter."
"And you're satisfied?"
"Sure, I'm satisfied! We've found the guilty man, and he's under lock and key. What more do I want? I'll tell you what, I'll be up to have dinner with you in a little while. I invite myself," this with a chuckle. "You and I will have a little celebration dinner. It is a go?"
"By all means. I'll be delighted to have you, and I want to hear all about the inquest."
Bristow went back to the porch.
"That," he told them, "was a message from the chief of police. He says the coroner's jury has held the negro, Perry Carpenter, for the crime."
Mr. Fulton moved forward in his chair, his hands clutching the arms of it tightly.