"I didn't kill him," she repeated perplexedly, weakly.
"Why didn't you call for help? You--you knew I was here."
Dale hesitated. "I--I couldn't." The moment the words were out
of her mouth she knew from his expression that they had only
cemented his growing certainty of her guilt.
"Dale! Be careful what you say!" warned Miss Cornelia agitatedly.
Dale looked dumbly at her aunt. Her answers must seem the height
of reckless folly to Miss Cornelia--oh, if there were only someone
who understood!
Anderson resumed his grilling.
"Now I mean to find out two things," he said, advancing upon Dale.
"Why you did not call for help--and what you have done with that
blue-print."
"Suppose I could find that piece of blue-print for you?" said Dale
desperately. "Would that establish Jack Bailey's innocence?"
The detective stared at her keenly for a moment.
"If the money's there--yes."
Dale opened her lips to reveal the secret, reckless of what might
follow. As long as Jack was cleared--what matter what happened
to herself? But Miss Cornelia nipped the heroic attempt at
self-sacrifice in the bud.
She put herself between her niece and the detective, shielding Dale
from his eager gaze.
"But her own guilt!" she said in tones of great dignity. "No, Mr.
Anderson, granting that she knows where that paper is--and she has
not said that she does--I shall want more time and much legal advice
before I allow her to turn it over to you.
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