“In what part of the house?”
“In the library, sir, from dinner until after nine o’clock.”
“Where is the library located?”
“These are the windows, sir, right here.”
“Oh, ho!” exclaimed Gerry. “Is that so? It looks as if this man had designed to peer into them, and had been caught in the act, if not done up for it. Possibly we may find a motive for the crime by looking a little deeper. You say that this man Kendall was a friend of your family?”
Nick Carter saw what was coming, yet he made no move to head it off. His immediate design was only to observe the trend of the case, and then shape his own course accordingly.
Doctor Royal grew even more pale upon hearing the remarks of the central office man, and he fell to wringing his hands with a sort of nervous apprehension. He was thinking of his son, who for several days had been absent with Kendall, and had not yet returned.
Yet there lay Cecil Kendall, slain by the hand of an assassin, and the unaccountable absence of Harry Royal still remained to be explained.
The mystery of it all dismayed the worthy clergyman, yet, despite his desperate misgivings, he nerved himself to answer quite firmly:
“Yes, sir, Mr. Kendall has been a friend of my family for several years.”