"There is not much to say," I replied deliberately. "I 'll answer your questions so far as I think best, and then I 'll ask a few of you. The lady upstairs is Viola Henley, the wife of Philip Henley. She has come down here to take legal possession of this property. That is the situation in a nutshell. I am merely accompanying her to make sure that she gets a square deal."
His jaw sagged, and his eyes wandered.
"Oh, hell," he managed to articulate. "What is your real game?"
"Exactly as I have stated it, Coombs. To the best of my knowledge Philip Henley is dead—at least he has disappeared—and his widow is the rightful heir to this estate."
"Wal, I reckon he ain't dead—not by a jugful."
I felt the hot blood pump in my veins. Did the man know this to be true, or was he merely making the claim for effect?
"That, of course, remains to be proven," I returned smilingly.
"Oh, does it, now! So does this yer wife business, to my thinkin'. Wal, it won't take long ter settle the matter, believe me. Who are you enyhow?"
"My name is Craig—Gordon Craig."
"A lawyer?"