Mr. Scanlon frowned.
“You see,” said he, “these are queer times, and when a fellow get mixed up in such, and sees things that he don’t fathom, about the only way open to him is to ask to have them explained.”
“I think I can understand that feeling very well,” she said. “There are many things for which I too have sought an explanation.”
“When you left the room that night of the burglar’s visit,” said Bat, “and while I was telling Campe and his man what had happened, you did it very quietly.”
“I had a reason,” said the girl. “I hurried away to find the person whom I’d been seeking when you saw me strike the match.”
“Well, were you successful?”
“I was. I saw who opened the gate and liberated your prisoner.”
Mr. Scanlon mopped his face, which had grown suddenly heated.
“The wind’s changing,” said he to the crime specialist. “It’s beginning to blow from a new quarter altogether.”
But Ashton-Kirk was looking at the girl. “You see how it is?” said he.