"What's the matter with him?" I asked the attending physician--after I had got him installed.
"Hard to tell yet. He fainted on the street, you say? He is obviously exhausted, but what the cause or the outcome may be, I can't tell you yet."
"I want you to let me know the minute he is sufficiently restored to talk. And don't let anyone talk to him until I have seen him."
The doctor raised his eyebrows. I handed him my card.
"There is a possibility that he may know something about the Barker murder," I said.
The doctor looked surprised. "Why, I thought the murderer had confessed. Is there anything further to investigate?"
"We haven't all of the facts yet," I answered. "This man may know something, and again he may not. But don't let him talk to anyone until I have quizzed him. Will you see to that?"
"Oh, all right," he said easily. "The old fellow isn't likely to be quite himself until he has slept the clock around, I judge. I'll telephone you when he is able to see visitors. What makes you think he knows anything about it?"
"Oh, just a guess," I said.
Really, come to look at it, I had very slight foundation for the feeling I had that something was going to come out of the old man's revelations; but that isn't the first or the last time that an unreasoning impulse has been of more value to me than all the learning of the schools.