"Then you will do so on your own responsibility," said Ralston, in decided tones. "I think Mr. Burton is right. The evidence was so plainly intended to be found that it amounts to nothing. I, for one, shall not allow myself to be made a laughing stock by taking action on it, and I am sure that Mr. Hadley agrees with me."
"I--certainly--ah--should not wish to be made a laughing stock," said Mr. Hadley, with a reproachful look at Selby.
Selby picked up his hat and made for the door. "You needn't think I'm going to drop this," he said with bitter emphasis. He addressed the room in general, but his look fell on Henry Underwood.
Hadley and Ralston also rose.
"If he acts on this evidence," said Ralston, addressing Dr. Underwood, "you may count on Mr. Hadley and myself to state exactly how it was found. We will say good night now, and I hope your foot will be all right in a day or two."
"Thank you," said Underwood. "Henry, will you see the gentlemen to the door?"
Henry went out with the committee. Incidentally, he did not return to the surgery. From his place by the window, Burton saw the men depart. Selby, who had left the room some minutes before the others, was the last to leave the house. Indeed, the others waited at the gate some minutes before he came hurriedly out to join them. Burton wondered if he had occupied the time in poking into other rooms in his absurd "search."
Leslie had sprung up and gone to her father. She put one arm around his neck and lifted his face with a sort of fierce affection.
"Why do you look so depressed, father?" she demanded. "How dare you let yourself go down like that?"
He wrinkled his face in one of those queer smiles.