“No, sir; they searched Drysdale’s room, but it wasn’t there. Now they’re tryin’t’ figger out where he hid it.”
“Well,” observed Godfrey, “they’ll have to figure a long time, because he didn’t hide it anywhere.”
“Mebbe not, sir,” retorted the jailer, with a sceptical smile. “But appearances are dead agin him. Why, even his girl thinks he did it.”
“How do you know that?” demanded Godfrey quickly.
“When Heffelbower was bringin’ him out o’ th’ house, they met her in th’ hall, an’ she asked Drysdale what he wanted t’ do it fer, why he couldn’t awaited a while. That’s purty good evidence, I think.”
Godfrey had listened with a face hard as steel. He turned away without answering, and as we went down the street together, I saw that this new development puzzled and worried him sorely. That Miss Croydon should think Drysdale guilty, even for an instant, was inconceivable!
We made our way to the nearest hotel and engaged a trap, and while it was getting ready, ordered a light lunch. Godfrey ate in thoughtful silence; as for me, I confess that I saw little ground for that conviction he had expressed so confidently, that we could prove our client’s innocence. I was forced to admit that, to look at Drysdale, no one would believe him capable of such a crime; but then, for that matter, to look at Tremaine, who would believe him capable of it? Put the two men before a jury, and Tremaine would come off victor every time. It becomes instinctive, in time, for a lawyer to try to look at his cases with an
