The next instant a glass was thrust under his nose and placed gently against his mouth. He raised his hand and pushed the glass away from him. “G’way,” he stammered faintly; “leave me ’lone.”
Apparently no attention was paid to his request, for the glass was again placed at his lips. Again he tried to thrust it from him, but his feeble efforts made no impression against the strong wrist. His resistance only lasted a few minutes, then his weaker will surrendered to the stronger, and he sipped the medicine obediently, after which the glass was withdrawn.
Downstairs in the library three men sat smoking around the large desk table.
“I am glad you could join us to-night, Colonel Thornton,” said Brett, as he placed one of the ashtrays conveniently near the lawyer. “Three heads are better than one, and it is time we got together and discussed certain features of this case.”
“Quite right, it will help us to a clearer understanding,” agreed the Colonel.
“Then suppose, Mr. Hunter, that you first tell us any theories which you may have formed.”
Douglas dropped the paper-cutter he was balancing in his hand, and, leaning on the table, looked seriously at his companions. “I think,” he said deliberately, “that Philip Winthrop has a guilty knowledge of Senator Carew’s death, if he is not the actual murderer.”
“Your reasons,” demanded Colonel Thornton.