Rodgers’ powerful grip on Potter’s throat was loosened by Craige.
“Stop this quarreling!” commanded the lawyer. “Stop it, I say,” and he shook Rodgers vehemently as he backed him away from Potter. “Go, Ben; I’ll join you later.”
Craige did not release his hold on Rodgers until Potter, still gasping from his encounter with the former, reeled out of the office.
“What has come over you, Rodgers?” he asked, letting go his hold so suddenly that Rodgers staggered backward. “Why did you fly at Potter in that manner?”
“The dirty blackguard!” Rodgers actually stammered in his rage. “Didn’t you hear him? Why, he had the audacity to infer that because old Oscar overheard a wordy row between Kitty and her aunt, that Kitty killed the old lady and so inherited her fortune—to marry—” he choked. “Why, damn it! There are a dozen men who would marry Kitty if she hadn’t a cent in the world—I’m—” his face paled, “I’m one of them.”
Craige looked at him with admiring approval. “I like your loyalty,” he exclaimed. “As for Potter—” he struck his desk with his clenched fist. “Potter has grown insufferable. Matrimony doesn’t appear to agree with him.” He stepped back to his desk and picked up his brief case. When he turned again to Rodgers, who stood waiting by the door, the gravity of his manner struck the younger man. “There is no use blinding ourselves to the situation, Rodgers,” he said. “It is up to us to solve the mystery of Susan Baird’s death. If we don’t,” he paused, “Kitty may find herself in a most unpleasant predicament.”
“The mystery is going to be solved—and quickly,” Rodgers checked his hasty speech. “Are you on your way to the Court House, Mr. Craige?”
“Yes.” Craige followed Rodgers through the outer office, pausing only long enough to be assisted into his overcoat by an attentive office boy, and joined him at the elevator. “Don’t let Potter worry you, Rodgers; give him time to cool off. I imagine the news that Susan Baird was a wealthy woman, and that she never left him a red cent is responsible for his irritability. You know Ben is rather inclined to love money.”
“Hm, yes. I can well believe that he is blood-kin in that respect to Miss Susan Baird,” and Rodgers, his temper somewhat restored, waved a friendly hand to Craige as they left the elevator and went their several ways.