“Had you been to the cabin before?” shooting a swift glance at him. “Were you familiar with its contents?”
“I have passed the cabin on several of my rambles through the woods, but never had been inside it. As I went by the cabin I saw the door was insecurely fastened and went in.”
“Did you find Dr. Thorne in the cabin?”
“No.” Beverly Thorne, who had been scrutinizing each person in the room, his gaze resting longest on Vera, who avoided looking at him, could not repress a smile as he saw Anthony’s chagrin. “No one was in the cabin but myself,” continued Noyes. “The stillness of the place got on my nerves, and I drew out my revolver—” He stopped and tried to withdraw his hand from Millicent’s detaining clasp. “I heard someone approaching the cabin and darted behind the screen, not caring to meet anyone—then a shot startled me, and my revolver went off almost simultaneously, and my aim was poor—” His attempt at a smile was ghastly.
His companions were drinking in his words as they stood in a semicircle about the lounge on which Millicent had sunk beside Noyes. Mitchell, who was across from Thorne, saw him watching Vera, and turned his attention to her, but Anthony’s next words riveted his thoughts again on Noyes.
“You say you heard a shot, Dr. Noyes?” questioned Anthony. “From which direction did the shot come?”
“From outside the cabin,” promptly. “It was somewhat muffled.”
“You are sure it was not fired in the cabin?”
“I am.”
Anthony turned bluntly to Thorne. “I guess that lets you out of one charge—you didn’t shoot Dr. Noyes, but—we still have to establish the identity of ‘Gentleman Charlie,’ the counterfeiter.”