"I'm sorry," he answered, "but I've got to take you for his murder."
Randall's face whitened. He held himself rigidly. After a time he relaxed and laughed. His words came with difficulty as if his mouth held no moisture.
"I'm wanted for Treving's murder!"
"You'll come quietly?"
"Yes. What's that noise? I thought I heard some one scream, a—a woman."
"Dr. Randall," Garth began steadily, "did you ever—"
"See here," Randall interrupted, "I'll answer no questions until I've seen my lawyer. Where's my wife? What about my wife?"
Garth cleared his throat.
"She's been hysterical—well—practically out of her head."
Garth could not fathom Randall's expression as he walked at his side towards the house.