"Was I foolish to believe Mr. Garney?"
"Of course you were, my darling. But perhaps it was a guided foolishness. Jean, what you told me about his recognizing that locket gave me a clue to the man who shot Barker. Dear, it was not Gene. It was Mr. Garney himself."
"Oh! Can it be true?"
"Only too true." I told her some of the strange disconnected links which had at last been knit into a strong chain of evidence.
"Was that what he meant to tell me when we were married?" she asked, her eyes full of horror.
"No, I do not believe he ever meant to tell you anything,--or at most some wild tale like that one about Fellows,--which might have made trouble for us, too, if the real discovery had not come so soon. He merely wanted to get you to marry him, by hook or crook. He felt perfectly safe, I am sure. He thought he had the whole thing in his hands when he forced Gene to believe and to confess what would forever close future investigation."
"And Gene will now go free?"
"Perfectly free,--free to dance at our wedding. Don't forget that," I said.
She laughed,--which was what I wanted. I could not let her break nervously under all this emotional strain.
"Then everything has turned out happily except for poor Mr. Clyde!" she said, clasping her hands hard together.