"Better speak up, young fellow, me lad," advised the detective. "It won't help you any to be sulky. You're up against the electric chair sure."
The Arizonan looked at him with the level, unafraid eyes of the hills.
"I reckon I'll not talk till I'm ready," he said in his slow drawl.
The handcuffs clicked on his wrists.
CHAPTER XXIX
BAD NEWS
Colin Whitford came into the room carrying a morning paper. His step was hurried, his eyes eager. When he spoke there was the lift of excitement in his voice.
"Bee, I've got bad news."
"Is the Bird Cage flooded?" asked Beatrice. "Or have the miners called a strike again?"
"Worse than that. Lindsay's been arrested. For murder."