Colonel Menendez lay on his face, and the line made by his
recumbent body pointed almost directly toward--"
I nodded, watching him.
"I know, Harley--toward the Guest House."
Paul Harley inclined his head, grimly.
"The first light which we saw," he continued, "was in a window of the
Guest House. It may have had no significance. Awakened by the sound of
a rifle-shot near by, any one would naturally get up."
"And having decided to come downstairs and investigate," I continued,
"would naturally light a lamp."
"Quite so." He stared at me very hard. "Yet," he said, "unless Mr.
Colin Camber can produce an alibi I foresee a very stormy time for
him."
"So do I, Harley. A deadly hatred existed between these two men, and
probably this horrible deed was done on the spur of the moment. It is
of his poor little girl-wife that I am thinking. As though her troubles
were not heavy enough already."
"Yes," he agreed. "I am almost tempted to hold my tongue, Knox, until I
have personally interviewed these people. But of course if our
blundering friend directly questions me, I shall have no alternative. I
shall have to answer him.
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