“No—I don’t think so.” Stephen was well on his guard. “But he knew that Hugh was in some trouble at the office. That was why Grant came here that night.”
“Oh, yes,” Latham nodded. “I remember. No, it wasn’t that. His interview with Grant disturbed him, I know—but it was something bigger that killed him!”
“Why, how—how do you mean?” Stephen spoke as naturally as he could.
“You were the last person who saw him alive, were you not?” Latham questioned for question.
“Yes.”
“How was he when you left him—when you said good-night?”
“He was all right,” Pryde spoke reflectingly.
“If my memory serves me,” the physician continued, “you had gone from the house.”
“When he died? Yes—some time before he died. I was on my way to London. There was something Uncle Dick wanted me to do for him in town—er it was nothing important.”
“Then,” Latham added musingly, “it was after you left that this shock occurred to him. It must have come from something in this room.”