"Half way between the saloon and Doctor Heath's I saw him. He passed close to me, as I came up from Mill avenue, and reeled across the road. He was not going toward our rendezvous, but away from it.
"I followed stealthily. I did not make my nearness known. I think he was too drunk to know where he was going or where to stop. He reeled past Doctor Heath's house, and was nearly opposite the gate of the empty lot before he discovered that he had gone too far.
"He turned, and while he leaned against the fence and seemed to ponder, I crept upon him, knife in hand; I struck him, once, again, a third time. He uttered one groan loud enough to have been heard some distance away, and then fell heavily. I had struck home. When I was sure that he was dead—I seemed to know just how to act—I ran to the gate of the Burns' lot and opened it wide. The body was twice my weight but I dragged it inside before my strength gave out.
"Then, for a while, I seemed panic stricken. What should I do with that body? By and by, I thought of a way to get help. I waited until midnight, then I made my way to Mapleton, all blood stained, and carrying the knife with me. Unseen I entered and gained Frank's room. He was up and pacing the floor; I told him to follow me. He saw my blood-stained hands and garments; I opened my coat and displayed the knife, and he obeyed me. I told him what I had done, and that he must help me conceal the body. For a moment he seemed stunned, and then he assisted me with surprising readiness; he planned everything; in fact, took the lead from that moment. I thought he was working to save his brother. The detective has told me the truth, and abjured me to tell all I know.
"Frank left me at the foot of the stairs leading to Heath's office. When he came down he seemed much excited, and hurried on very fast. We scooped out a grave in the cellar, as best we could in the dark, Frank working actively. He told me to take my knife and throw it into the old well—if you look you will find it there. While I was doing it, he must have put the other knife in the grave. When I came back he had covered the face with something white. I did not think about it at the time; now I know that it was Doctor Heath's handkerchief.
"Doctor Heath is an innocent man. I killed John Burrill; I am here to accept the consequences. I did the deed to save my sister. I do not regret it."
Then, turning toward the place where Frank Lamotte sits, cowering and panic stricken, he stretches out one spectral hand and says:
"Frank! Frank Lamotte, do the only thing left you to do; stand up and say that I have spoken the truth. Let us end this at once, Frank!"
Like one roused from some strange stupor, Frank staggers to his feet.
"It is all true!" he gasps. "Evan has told nothing but the truth." Then he falls back in his seat more dead than alive.