"You don't know who it was you struck?"
"Unless it was Kirby."
"Jove! That explains the bruise on his chin," Jack cried out. "Why didn't he tell us that?"
The color flushed the young woman's cheeks. "We're friends, he and I.
If he guessed I was the one that struck him he wouldn't tell."
"How would he guess it?" asked James.
"He knew I meant to see your uncle—meant to make him do justice to Esther. I suppose I'd made wild threats. Besides, I left my glove there—on the table, I think. I'd taken it off with some notion of writing a note telling your uncle I had been there and that he had to see me next day."
"The police didn't find a woman's glove in the room, did they?" James asked his brother.
"Didn't hear of it if they did," Jack replied.
"That's it, you see," explained Rose. "Kirby would know my glove. It was a small riding-gauntlet with a rose embroidered on it. He probably took it with him when he left. He kept still about the whole thing because I was the woman and he was afraid of gettin' me into trouble."
"Sounds reasonable," agreed James.