"Radnor," I cried at last, "are you trying to shield any one? Do you know who killed your father?"
"I know no more about who killed my father than you do."
"Do you know about the ha'nt?"
"Yes," he said desperately, "I do; but it is not connected with either the robbery or the murder and I cannot talk about it."
I argued and pleaded but to no effect. He sat on his cot, his head in his hands staring at the floor, stubbornly refusing to open his lips. I gave over pleading and stormed.
"It's no use, Arnold," he said finally. "I won't tell you anything about the ha'nt; it doesn't enter into the case."
I sat down again and patiently outlined my theory in regard to Mose.
"It is impossible," he declared. "I have known Mose all my life, and I have never yet known him to betray a trust. He loved my father as much as I did, and if my life depended on it, I should swear that he was faithful."
"Rad," I beseeched, "I am not only your attorney, I am your friend; whatever you say to me is as if it had never been said. I must know the truth."
He shook his head.