“These men are” — Rokesbury waved his free hand toward the stupefied deputies — “and they are seeking the murderer. Should I uncover him, I shall place him in their custody.”
“It is their job to search.”
“They requested me to assume that duty for them. I am acting at the request of officers, Halthorpe. You are trying to hinder a legal search. I shall not let you prevent it.”
“You have no right to tramp through this house.”
“I have a right to question those within this room. That is the issue for the present. I believe” — Rokesbury turned to the deputies — “that the murderer came in here. You heard Miss Brent say that she bolted the door each time a person entered. The three people who came in are with us here. What shall I do about it?”
“Question them,” suggested one of the deputies.
“In your behalf?” asked Rokesbury.
“Yes,” said the man.
“Very well,” decided Rokesbury. “Halthorpe, I want to know more about your visit here. According to Miss Brent, you were the last person who came into the house.”
“I refuse to answer any questions,” snapped the lawyer.
“A process of elimination, then,” decided the engineer. “You came in just ahead of Halthorpe, Professor Shelby. Where did you come from?”
“I was tramping through the quagmire,” replied the professor, in a mild tone. “I was searching for the ignis fatuus. I was alone; I covered a considerable territory.”
“Did you encounter any one in the swamp?”
“Not a soul. I saw occasional signs of an electric lantern, which I knew belonged to Wildemar Brent. When it moved toward the house, I decided to return.”
“Where were you at the time?”
“On the side of the house toward the hill. I was probably a few furlongs distant from the house.”
ROKESBURY nodded. He turned to Wildemar Brent.
“You came in first, didn’t you?” quizzed Rokesbury.
“I did,” responded the naturalist. “Moreover, I noted nothing on the marsh.”
“What portion did you cover?”
“I went beyond the causeway at the start. You said that a watchman had reported seeing the ignis fatuus in that section. I crossed the causeway above the place where your shift is working. I found difficulty in tracing paths through the boggy soil, for it was my first visit to that region. So I came back to this side of the causeway and roamed a while before I returned to this house.”
“Fair statements,” remarked Rokesbury. “However, they still leave us in the dark. I am going to present a theory which has been forming in my mind. I intend to deal in probabilities: to eliminate those who could not have been disguised as the bearded squatter.
“Let us return to the night that the murderer killed my men. He carried Miss Brent from the house. I undertook the pursuit. I was aided in my search by Wildemar Brent. He led our party through the swamp. Therefore, it is a self-evident fact that Mr. Brent could not have been the disguised squatter.
“Next we have Professor Darwin Shelby. He had retired earlier that evening. He did not appear at the time of the gunfire; but he arrived after we had reached the cabin and were looking for the squatter. He knows the marsh as well as Mr. Brent. His statement that he had dressed and followed us through the swamp is both plausible and acceptable. He was not the man with the beard.
“Last, we have Philo Halthorpe.” Rokesbury turned to stare steadily at the lawyer, who glowered in return. “He did not arrive at this house until after we returned with Miss Brent. He stated that he had been walking along the road that leads by the side of the swamp. Returning from a late evening tramp — those hikes seem to be a steady habit of his. He claimed that he came to the house because he saw the light over the door. Is that correct, Mr. Halthorpe?”
“I refuse to answer,” rasped the lawyer. “I continue to dispute your authority, Rokesbury.”
“My point is gained,” resumed Rokesbury, gripping the handle of his gun. “I maintain that it would have been quite possible for Halthorpe to have come here in the guise of the squatter; to have carried off Miss Brent; to have returned by the road, without his disguise.
“It is also possible that he entered the cabin to-night and broke the rifles that belonged to the deputies. He could then have come through the swamp, dropped his disguise and entered this house as a welcomed guest. If the murderer is here” — Rokesbury emphasized the words — “he can be but one man present. That man is Philo Halthorpe!”
ROKESBURY’S accusation rang clear. Halthorpe’s one response was a sneer. The deputies shifted as Rokesbury glanced in their direction; then one stepped forward and laid a hand on the lawyer’s arm.
“Get away!” scoffed Halthorpe. “Are you as great a fool as Rokesbury? What do you intend to do? Arrest me?”
“You didn’t answer the questions,” said the deputy.
“Why should I?” snapped Halthorpe. “Who was Rokesbury, to ask them? Let me put a question of my own. Suppose I were the bearded fellow that you want. Why should I have been idiot enough to come back to that cabin? Why should I have created trouble for myself by coming to this house?
“Answer those questions; then this one. Why would I have dropped the beard and hat beside the swamp where they could be found as evidence against me? I could have sunk them in the morass, where they would never be discovered.
“Think over those questions. Then, if you choose to act like fools, send Rokesbury back to his causeway, with his men. I shall walk into town with you. We can call the prosecutor from my home. He can come to Rensdale, with Garry Logan. They can decide what to do.”
“All right,” agreed the deputy. “Let us do that, Mr. Halthorpe. It will satisfy everybody. Come on” — he turned to his fellow officer — “and let’s get going.”
“Unarmed?” The question came from Rokesbury.
“That’s right.” The first deputy pondered. “We ought to have guns with us. Can you give us each a revolver, Mr. Rokesbury? Two of your men ought to be able to do without them.”
“Certainly,” responded Rokesbury.
“Wait a minute.” The second deputy spoke nervously. “Maybe Mr. Halthorpe isn’t all right; maybe he’s the fellow that ran in on us at the cabin. We had rifles up there. They didn’t do us any good. Even with revolvers, there’ll only be two of us.”
A snorting laugh came from Halthorpe. The lawyer had drawn himself up to his full height. The deputies stared, startled. The ruggedness of the lawyer filled them with alarm. They glanced at Rokesbury, seeking advice. Before the engineer could give it, new footsteps sounded in the hall. Another workman appeared at the door of the room.
“Fellow outside to see you, boss,” informed the worker. “Says he knows you. A newspaper reporter named Burke.”
“Keep him out of this,” roared Halthorpe. “The fellow can see the prosecutor to-morrow. I shall have no absurd statements going to the press.”
“So!” The exclamation came from Brent. “I was right about that chap. A reporter, eh? He shall not enter my home. I forbid it.”
“Show Burke in,” said Rokesbury, shortly. “Maybe he has something to tell us. At least I shall have something to tell him.”
“There’s another guy with him,” informed the worker.
“Let him come along,” ordered Rokesbury.
“This is outrageous!” snorted Halthorpe, about to stride toward the door.
“Stay where you are,” snapped Rokesbury, half drawing his gun.
The lawyer stopped. Wildemar Brent, rising as he mouthed a protest, went slumping back into his chair.
Professor Shelby sat motionless.
The workman departed. He called from the hall. Thirty seconds later, Clyde Burke appeared in the doorway, followed by a tall, stoop-shouldered man whose overcoat collar obscured half his face.