"Mr. Garney. One of the instructors at Vandeventer."
I made a note of Mr. Garney's name, also of Al Chapman's.
"You don't think of anything else that I ought to know,--anything having a bearing on Benbow's actions or his state of mind?"
He hesitated, looked at me and shifted his eyes to the window, and finally pursed up his lips and shook his head. "No."
"Then let us go down to the jail so that I can meet my client."
We went down together to the jail and were admitted to see Eugene Benbow. Certainly he did not look like a murderer as we are apt to picture one. He was a tall, slender youth, with a sensitive face, and in spite of his nervousness he had the best manners I ever saw. He was sitting with his face in his hands when we came in, but he sprang to his feet at once with a self-forgetful courtesy that made him seem like an anxious host rather than a prisoner.
"So good of you to come, Uncle Howard," he murmured. "I--I'm afraid I have disturbed you,--I'm so sorry,--"
"Sorry!" snorted Mr. Ellison. "Much good it does to think of that now. And what you ever expected to have come from your going to the police with that story--Well, there's no use talking. This is Mr. Hilton, Gene. He is a lawyer, and he is going to look after your case, now that you're in for it."
Eugene bowed. "Oh, that's most kind of you. It won't be any trouble? I'm so sorry to put you to any inconvenience--"
"Don't let that disturb you," I said. "Mr. Ellison was kind enough to think I might be of use,--"