“There, there!” O’Brien poked him suggestively and Hajek stopped talking.
“But,” began Dr. Balman uncertainly, “I never dreamed it was Dr. Hajek. Why he was right there with me when we found you, O’Leary, there by the stairs. He seemed as astonished as I was.” Dr. Balman reached unsteadily for his handkerchief and passed it over his forehead. “This is terrible, O’Leary, terrible.” His voice shook. “Do you realize that you are accusing a doctor of St. Ann’s of unspeakable crimes? That you are——”
“Truth is truth.” There was a queer, icy look in O’Leary’s gray eyes. “If a doctor of St. Ann’s is guilty, he is as guilty as any other man would be.”
“Oh, yes. Yes, I suppose so,” agreed Dr. Balman, reluctantly. “But it is no less—terrible.” He shuddered visibly.
I found my tongue.
“Then what part has Mr. Gainsay in all this?”
O’Leary eyed me curiously before replying. Then he turned to Jim Gainsay.
“Gainsay,” he said slowly, “is a young man who is going to get into serious trouble sometime through not minding his own business. He is incurably inquisitive and has been quite sure that he and he alone could solve this mystery.” There was a gleam of mirth back of those clear, gray eyes.
Jim straightened up, felt absently in his pocket and drew out a pipe, which he held without lighting, the policeman at the window watching him with an impassive countenance.
Jim sighed.