"Yes. Why, I attended lectures at the U all forenoon. Then after lunch Mr. Garney came over for an hour,--he's tutoring me in Latin. At four I went to the Gym,--guess I was there about an hour. Then I went home and read awhile, until it was time to go to the Frat house for supper. The fellows were giving me a spread because it was my birthday."
"Did anything come up that annoyed you? Was anything said--about Barker, for instance?"
The boy frowned. "Yes. Grig--I mean Jim Gregory--said that he saw Barker in town the other day. The other fellows shut him up. Grig is new here. He didn't know how it would make me feel."
"How did it make you feel?"
The boy's slim white hands were gripping the edges of his chair nervously. "Desperate," he said, in a voice to match. "Here I was, singing and laughing and drinking and having a jolly time, and there was my father dead, shot down and unavenged,--oh, it all seemed suddenly horrible to me. I couldn't stay."
"You went away early, then. What time was it?"
"I don't know. I never thought of looking. Does it make any difference?"
"I don't know that it does. Then what did you do? Did you go direct to the Phœnix Building?"
He frowned thoughtfully. "No, I must have gone home first, mustn't I? Yes, of course I went home. My revolver was there. I went into the library and threw myself down on the couch to think it out,--and then--why, then I must have got my revolver and gone out."
"Was your revolver in the library?"