"Now, Mrs. Stannard, there's no use trying to dodge the issue. We've been pretty suspicious of Miss Vernon from the first. This last matter settles it, to my mind. You know that unsent letter found in Mr. Stannard's desk was without doubt meant for Miss Vernon. You know it said that she knew where the jewels were hidden. Now, she has proved that she did know, and she produced them in this hocus-pocus way, to hide her theft." "No, no, Mr. Roberts, I cannot believe it! Natalie is not bad enough for all that maneuvering; nor would she, I'm sure, be capable of it. Again, granting you're right in suspecting her of making up last evening's events, how could she imitate Mr. Stannard's voice----" "Oh, that was hypnotism. Miss Vernon is psychic, and, too, she evidently possesses the power of hypnotising at will. She made you believe you heard those sounds. She made you believe the lights went out----" "Oh, I know the light went out! I couldn't be mistaken as to that!" "No, but I mean she went and turned them out while you thought she still sat by your side. Weren't your eyes closed?" "No, they were wide open. She did not leave her seat. The lights were turned off by a hand other than hers, whether mortal or spirit, I cannot say." "Well, the whole affair was of her invention and carrying out. She is responsible for your husband's death, Mrs. Stannard. There is no doubt whatever of Miss Vernon's guilt." "Just take that back, Roberts," and Barry Stannard came into the Reception Room where the speakers were sitting. "Miss Vernon is as innocent as an angel in this business. I'm ready to confess. I killed my father, and I own up to it, rather than have Natalie suspected. If you had been any sort of a detective you would have known from the first that I did it. But you had your head set in one direction and nothing could change you. You know perfectly well I had motive and opportunity. It was not premeditated, I did it on the spur of sudden indignation." "Barry," cried Joyce, "what are you saying? You didn't kill Eric!" "Yes, I did. I thought it might blow over, and remain an unsolved mystery. But if Natalie is to be suspected of my crime, I would be less than a man to keep still. Take me along, Roberts, I give myself up." Bobsy Roberts stared at him. "My plan worked," he said, slowly. "I thought it was you, really, all along, but I thought, too, the only way to get a confession from you, was to seem to suspect Miss Vernon. As you say, no man could sit still and see a woman bearing the blame that belongs to him. You came in through the Billiard Room?"