“I think they would like to have you back in Joliet,” the chief answered, “and that means five years to commence with. If you give me the name of the man, and it is proven that you had nothing to do with the murder, I will see that you are not troubled.”
Marsh appeared to be thinking deeply. “Shall I have to appear as a witness?” he asked.
“Not unless it is necessary; I won’t put you on the stand if I can make the case without you.”
“Will you release me as soon as you are satisfied you have the right man?”
“Yes.”
“Then arrest Frank Richald, who was Mr. Marchburn’s stenographer. He’s your man.”
“How do you know?”
“I won’t tell; but see if I am not right.”
Walton ordered Marsh back to his cell, somewhat puzzled by the result of the interview. He did not believe all that Marsh had told him; but the mention of Richald’s name indicated that he was getting down to the man’s confederates. There was only one thing to do. The superintendent ordered Johnson to arrest Richald. He took his arrest quietly. Brought before Walton, he said, without waiting to be questioned: “I am innocent; but circumstances are against me.”
With a quick, sudden movement, Walton seized hold of the corner of the skirt of Richald’s brown overcoat and intently examined a dark spot on the front. “Marchburn’s blood,” he said tersely.