"'I think that there is a great deal of humbug about the remorse a man feels,' Brooks replied. 'I regretted that I had been forced to kill the old man, for with all his stinginess he was rather kind-hearted, but I had to save my own life. It is true that I didn't have to commit the robbery, but robbery is not a capital crime.'
"'But the self-defense of a robber, when it results in a tragedy, is a murder,' the reporter suggested.
"'We'll see about that,' Brooks coolishly replied.
"'Do you make this confession with the advice of your lawyer?'
"'No, but at the suggestion of my own judgment. When I was told that the old woman had seen the killing and that, of course, her deposition would be introduced in court, I then knew that it was worse than useless to protest my innocence. Besides, as she saw it, the tragedy was a murder, but, as I confess it'—He hesitated.
"'It is what?' the reporter asked.
"'Well, that's for the law to determine. There should always be some mercy for a man who tells the truth. I have done a desperate thing—I staked my future on it. But I have associated with rich men so long that for me a future without money could be but a continuation of embarrassment. I have helped to make the fortunes of other men, but I failed when I engaged in speculations for myself. I had prospects, it is true, but I didn't know but Colton had arranged his will so as to prevent my using his money; and I had reason to fear that my wife was in touch with him,'
"'Has she been to see you?' the reporter asked.
"'That's rather an impertinent question,' Brooks replied, 'but I may as well confess everything. We haven't been getting along very well together. No, she hasn't been to see me. Not one of my friends has called. There, gentlemen, I have told you everything.'"
When the last word of the interview had been pronounced, Witherspoon grunted and lay back with his hands clasped under his head.