16 THE CENTURY MAGAZINE from the thief who had slain Jason Sanders? Never! I had a right to know his information; I had a right. By heavens! I 'd shake it out of him; I 'd face, beat, kill that snobbish hound, I remember running about the corner of the house, jabbing the button of the bell, bumping the door panels with sore palms* A light, and Edgerton' s voice: "What is it? What is it?" "Quick! A man hurt! Motor acci- dent!" I bellowed. He opened the door. I was on him, pushing him back into the hall, de- manding. "I want everything you have about Jason Sanders!" I noticed then that he had a revolver. I am afraid I hurt his wrist. Somewhat after, when I had placed him in a chair in the study, I said: "Where did you get your data? And where did Sanders die?" "You must be this idiot that 's been responsible for the Sanders folderol," he was gasping. "Will you be so good as to listen? I am going to kill you unless you give me what 1 wish, and immediately*" "Wh-what! See here." I don't remember* It '& curious; my head aches when I try to recall that part, I think I must have struck him, yet that seems strange, for cer- tainly he was larger than I and better fed* But I can hear him piping: "This is an outrage • You 're insane ! But if you insist, 1 had all my facts about Sanders from Peter Williams, a clergyman out in Yancey, Colorado." "Let me see. your letters from him." "Is that necessary?" "Do you think I 'd trust you?" "Well, I have only one letter here. The others are in my safe-deposit vault. Williams first wrote to me when he read my letter criticizing your articles* He has given me a good many details. He apparently has some reason to hate the memory of Sanders. Here 's his latest epistle, some more facts about Sanders's delightful poetic career." One glance showed me that this was indeed the case. The sheet which Edgerton handed me had inartistically printed at the top, "Rev. Peter F, Williams, Renewalist Brotherhood Congregation, Yancey, Colo*," and one sentence was, "Before this, San- ders's treatment of women in Kennuit was disgraceful— can't be too strongly condem'd," I had the serpent of whose venom Edgerton was but the bearer! I backed out, left Edgerton. He said a silly thing, which shows that he was at least as flustered as I was: "Good-by, Lieutenant Sandec!" I was certain that he would have me apprehended if I returned to my hotel, even for so long as would be needed to gather my effects , Instantly, 1 decided to abandon my luggage, hasten out of town. Fortunately, I had with me neither my other suit nor the fitted bag which Quinta had given me* Travers- ing only side streets, I sped out of town by the railway track. Then I was glad of the pocket flash-light, which, outside the study window, had seemed absurd. I sat on the railway embankment* I can still feel the grit- tiness of sharp-cornered cinders and cracked rock, still see the soggy pile of rotting logs beside the embankment upon which my flash-light cast a milky beam as I switched it on in order that I might study Peter Williams's letter. Already I had a clue. Peter Williams was also the name of that son of the Reverend Abner
