"Not that—not that, Marsh; your promise only a moment ago—your promise, Marsh!"
But he poured himself half a tumbler of whisky and emptied it at a swallow.
"To hell with my promise!" he said, and strode from the room.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE FINGER OF SUSPICION
In Chicago Conklin found an angry young man at police headquarters, and the name of this young man was John North.
"This is a most damnable outrage!" he cried hotly the moment he espied Mount Hope's burly sheriff.
"I am mighty sorry to have interfered with your plans, John—just mighty sorry." The sheriff's tone was meant to soothe and conciliate. "But you see we are counting on you to throw some light on the McBride murder."
"So that's it! I tell you, Conklin, I consider that I have been treated with utter discourtesy; I've been a virtual prisoner here over night!"