"No. If we go there with a light now," he said with the same dull conviction, "we will find him as we found my grandfather this afternoon."
The monotonous voices of the three men in the lower hall weaved a background for their whispers. The normal, familiar sound was like a tonic. Bobby straightened. Katherine threw off the spell of his announcement.
"But the evidence! You got—"
She stared at his empty hands. He fancied that he saw contempt in her eyes.
"In spite of everything you must go back. You must get that."
"Even if I had the courage," he said wearily, "it would be no use, for the evidence is gone."
"But I saw it. At least I saw his pocket—"
"It was there," he answered, "when my light went out. I did put my hand in his pocket. In that second it had gone."
"There was no one there," she said, "no one but you, because I watched."
He leaned heavily against the wall.