"I know that it was almost a quarter after eleven when they left the shop."
"Well, I'm glad you can speak the truth. Get on your hat and coat!"
"I—what do you mean, sir? Am I arrested?"
"No. Get that letter and come with me. I want you to tell the truth to somebody else, that's all."
The frightened barber got his hat and coat and the letter, and followed Jim Farland and Murk to the corner. There Farland engaged another taxicab, and ordered the chauffeur to drive back to the little clothing store.
"Running up a nice expense bill for Prale, but he won't care," Jim Farland said to Murk.
He compelled the merchant to shut up his shop and get into the cab, and then the chauffeur drove to police headquarters. Farland had telephoned from the clothing store, and the captain of detectives was waiting for him. He ushered the merchant and the barber into the office, looked down at the captain, and grinned.
"What's all this?" the captain demanded.
"It's Sid Prale's alibi," Jim Farland said. "These two gents want to tell you how they lied to-day, and why they lied. It is an interesting story."
The captain sat up straight in his chair, while Jim Farland removed his hat, sat down, motioned for Murk to do the same, and made himself comfortable.