“Who’s that?”
“Me.”
“That’s interesting. Humph! I’ll remember that.”
Krantz thoughtfully tapped the floor with his cane for a full minute. Then he rose.
“I’m going to help you if I can. I’ll try to find your two witnesses so that you can establish your alibi. But if I get you clear, and should ever want your aid (in an honourable way, of course) you’ll help me?”
“Yes.”
“All right. Don’t worry. Good-night.”
The visit of Krantz cheered Hugh and he was able to get some sleep. But the next two days crawled past miserably. Except for the warders with his food no one came near him; again his fears took shape. What if Mrs. Belmire and Fetterstein could not be found! Mrs. Belmire probably hated him and might be glad to revenge herself on him by keeping out of the way. But no, he thought, she was too good a sport for that. There was Fetterstein, too. Everything must come right. The time seemed so long.
On the fourth day he was again ushered into the bureau. The stout magistrate was at his desk and beside him sat the chief of police. He smiled benignly at Hugh.
“Everything has been explained,” he said, “as far as you are concerned. You are released. You need have no further fear. We regret exceedingly we have been obliged to put you to the inconvenience.”