“Mr. Tod recognized Tanner as one of Mrs. Wold’s roomers,” Klein continued, “and that same night I sent her a telegram. In answering it she mentioned the fact that Tanner had occupied a room adjoining Delmar’s, and on the morning of the assault had disappeared. She said, also, that a slim, black-eyed stranger was a frequent visitor to this room. From then on my case was as good as finished. I enlisted the services of Mr. Tod, and together we have managed to bring the little drama to a satisfactory conclusion.”
Tanner, white-lipped, trembling with suppressed agitation, was on his feet again, despite Tod’s effort to prevent him.
“There isn’t a shred of truth in that yarn!” he cried hoarsely. “I—I didn’t take the necklace—nobody saw me! I don’t know a thing about this Delmar case! Never heard of it! I tell you it’s all—all a lie!”
Klein, awaiting the favorable opportunity to spring his final and greatest surprise, suddenly stripped the raincoat from his shoulders, and faced the stammering, protesting Tanner.
A dead silence followed—few realized the situation—broken sharply by a scream from Tanner, as, wild-eyed, his nerves shattered by the strain he had labored under, and the story he had been compelled to listen to, beheld the telltale brown suit on its rightful owner.
One staring, agonized look, as though on the accusing face of his victim, and Tanner’s spirit was broken. He was no weakling, but before this unexpected and daring stroke of Klein’s the actor collapsed.
Another outburst followed the first, and, as if desirous of fleeing from further torment, Tanner whirled, knocked the astounded reporter aside, and sprang through the window.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
UNTANGLING THE WEB.
“Watch Jarge!” cried Klein to one of the detectives, as he sprang through the window, followed by the chief of police.
Tanner fell upon the porch, scrambled madly to his feet, gazed bewilderedly about him, then dashed away over the narrow footbridge that led to Eagle’s Nest. Klein and the chief were a few paces behind.