“And the one on the closet door-knob?”
Heath gave a derisive grunt.
“He’s got an answer for that, too—says he thought he heard some one coming in, and locked himself in the clothes-closet. Didn’t want to be seen and spoil any game Odell mighta been playing.”
“Most considerate of him to keep out of the way of the belles poires,” drawled Vance. “Touchin’ loyalty, what?”
“You don’t believe the rat, do you, Mr. Vance?” asked Heath, with indignant surprise.
“Can’t say that I do. But our Antonio at least spins a consistent yarn.”
“Too damn consistent to suit me,” growled the Sergeant.
“That’s all you could get out of him?” It was plain that Markham was not pleased with the results of Heath’s third degree of Skeel.
“That’s about all, sir. He stuck to his story like a leech.”
“You found no chisel in his room?”