"And how about Miss Ada's room? Was the light on there also?"
"Yes."
Vance reached into his pocket, and, drawing out his cigarette-case, carefully and deliberately selected a cigarette. I recognized in the action an evidence of repressed inner excitement.
"So the lights were on in both rooms. Most interestin'."
Markham, too, recognized the eagerness beneath his apparent indifference, and regarded him expectantly.
"And," pursued Vance, after lighting his cigarette leisurely, "how long a time would you say elapsed between the two shots?"
Greene was obviously annoyed by this cross-examination, but he answered readily.
"Two or three minutes—certainly no longer."
"Still," ruminated Vance, "after you heard the first shot you rose from your bed, donned slippers and robe, went into the hall, felt along the wall to the next room, opened the door cautiously, peered inside, and then crossed the room to the bed—all this, I gather, before the second shot was fired. Is that correct?"
"Certainly it's correct."
"Well, well! As you say, two or three minutes. Yes, at least that. Astonishin'!" Vance turned to Markham. "Really, y' know, old man, I don't wish to influence your judgment, but I rather think you ought to accede to Mr. Greene's request to take a hand in this investigation. I too have a psychic feeling about the case. Something tells me that your eccentric burglar will prove an ignis fatuus."
