Now, what's it
all about, anyway?"
"Well," I said, "in the first place, neither Godfrey nor I believes
that Swain strangled that man."
"I can't hardly believe it myself," agreed Simmonds, "for he seems a
nice young feller; but it's a clear case: there's the motive, he was
on the ground, and there's the finger-prints. How can you explain them
away?"
"I can't explain them away. But, just the same, Godfrey believes the
murder was committed by one of those Hindus."
"He intimated something of the sort to me," said Simmonds; "but
there's no evidence against them."
"No," I conceded; "that's what we've got to find."
"Where are we going to look for it?"
"There's only one place to look for it, and that's in the house where
the murder was committed. I only wish we could get Miss Vaughan out of
it--that would give us a freer hand."
"What's the matter with the fool girl, anyway?" demanded Simmonds. "I
should think she'd jump at a chance to get away."
"So should I--but she isn't reasonable, just now. I can't make her
out. Perhaps she'll come round in a day or two, but meanwhile, if she
should happen to need help, I don't see how your men out on the road,
on the other side of a twelve-foot wall, could do any good.
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