"It's a lie! You are trying to save Prale by accusing me!" Lerton cried.
"Why, we've got you, you weak fool!" said Farland. "I knew you in that old farmhouse despite your mask. Your hands gave you away—I recognized them."
"And he's the man who tried to bribe me!" Murk cried. "I can tell it by his hands, too!"
"You tried to smash Prale's alibi," Jim Farland continued. "You had him followed that night and you sent those notes to the barber and the clothing merchant, with money in them."
"And you betrayed yourself when you began using violence," Prale put in. "You were too vindictive. You showed that you had some good reason of your own for wanting to drive me away from New York quickly!"
"Oh, we've got you!" Farland repeated. "You are as good as in the electric chair now!"
George Lerton looked as if he might have been in it. He was breathing in gasps, and his face was white. His eyes held an expression of terror.
"I guess—you've got me!" he said. "But I'll never—go to the chair!"
Farland stepped across to him. "Get it off your chest!" he suggested.
"I—I'll talk about it—yes!" George Lerton said. "I—I sold out Griffin. I wanted money, and I hated Griffin because he had put Sidney Prale over me. Then Sid had his trouble with the girl and ran away. I fixed things so it looked as if he had been the guilty one.