Garth raised his hand to the lapel of the butler's coat.
"I thought so," he said. "No question about you, my man. You wore the rose I found where Treving's body lay. Got it at the wedding, didn't you?"
The man sank on the unmade bed.
"What are you talking about? I had nothing to do with it."
"Tell that to the judge who'll send you to the chair," he said.
The butler shook. He raised his uncertain hands to his face. He shuddered.
"No, no. I tell you I had nothing to do with it. It was Mrs. Randall. He attacked her, and she shot him."
Garth relaxed.
"You heard that, Nora?"
Nora came to the door.
"Yes."
"Then," Garth said, "I am about through with the case."
He turned back to Thompson.
"But you're not clear yet. How did you happen to be here? I know you went to the wedding with the rest."
"Yes, but Mrs. Randall got me on the telephone—said the doctor had been called back to town and she was nervous and I'd have to come home. As I let myself in the back way I heard her scream.
