“No,” responded Patsy. “I could see that. The thing that killed him was the breaking of the back of his skull on the sidewalk; but he had a black-and-blue mark over the right eye. That wasn’t made by his fall.”
“Certainly not. It was made by the blow that sent him reeling through the window.”
“That information will make your friend, Folsom, feel better, won’t it?”
“I judge so, as his telegram told me that he feared suicide, and hoped that it was murder.
“But,” added Nick. “I don’t think I shall be in a hurry to ease Folsom’s mind. We’ll wait till we have heard the whole story before letting him know what we think. It may be handy to give out the report that we believe it a case of suicide.”
“I’m on,” said Patsy.
They found Kerr and Folsom waiting for them in room fourteen, and they sat down at once to dinner.
While they were eating, Kerr told the whole story as far as he knew it.
Naturally, he mentioned Claymore’s name as the witness to Hank Low’s threats.
“Who is this Claymore?” asked Nick, as he lighted a cigar at the end of the meal.