“No, no! Don’t tell me! I know all about——”
“I don’t think you do.”
“Yes, I do. My boy told me. What is the use of repeating——”
The detective smiled protestingly, as he took the millionaire’s wrist in his fist, to keep him quiet.
“Let me speak, Mr. Milmarsh. I came to tell you that your son did not kill Richard Jarvis.”
“Not kill him? Are you sure of that? Is he alive?”
“He was alive for ten minutes after your son struck him. In fact, he was as well as ever. The blow on the chin was only one of the sleep-producing kind that are dealt at many boxing matches. What they call a ‘knock-out.’ Jarvis had entirely recovered from that almost before Howard was out of the Inn.”
“Then Dick Jarvis is alive?” asked Milmarsh eagerly.
“No, he is dead!”