"Ha!" said Kent. "Fool that I was."
"Exactly," continued Kelly. "In the excitement of watching my uncle I forgot where I was, I leaned too far over and fell out of the trap. I landed on uncle, just as he was sitting on the table to shoot. He fell."
"I see it all!" said Kent. "He hit his head, the loop tightened, the cue spun round and he was dead."
"That's it," said Kelly. "I saw that he was dead, and I did not dare to remain. I straightened the knot in his tie, laid his hands reverently across his chest, and departed as I had come."
"Mr. Kelly," said Throgton thoughtfully, "the logic of your story is wonderful. It exceeds anything in its line that I have seen published for months. But there is just one point that I fail to grasp. The two bullet holes?"
"They were old ones," answered the sailor quietly. "My uncle in his youth had led a wild life in the west; he was full of them."
There was silence for a moment. Then Kelly spoke again:
"My time, gentlemen, is short." (A hacking cough interrupted him.) "I feel that I am withering. It rests with you, gentlemen, whether or not I walk out of this room a free man."
Transome Kent rose and walked over to the sailor.
"Mr. Kelly," he said, "here is my hand."