one who killed Doomdorf hid in the room until he was asleep; then he shot him and went out."
"The explanation is excellent but for one thing," replied Abner: "How did the assassin bolt the door behind him on the inside of this room after he had gone out?"
Randolph flung out his arms with a hopeless gesture.
"Who knows?" he cried. "Maybe Doomdorf killed himself."
Abner laughed.
"And after firing a handful of shot into his heart he got up and put the gun back carefully into the forks against the wall!"
"Well," cried Randolph, "there is one open road out of this mystery. Bronson and this woman say they killed Doomdorf, and if they killed him they surely know how they did it. Let us go down and ask them."
"In the law court," replied Abner, "that procedure would be considered sound sense; but we are in God's court and things are managed there in a somewhat stranger way. Before we go let us find out, if we can, at what hour it was that Doomdorf died."
He went over and took a big silver watch out of the dead man's pocket. It was broken by a shot and the hands lay at one hour after noon. He stood for a moment fingering his chin.
"At one o'clock," he said. "Bronson, I think,
8
