"Doubtless, but at the same time murder is murder, and murder will out, Fry!" the extraordinary crime student said steadily, as he arose, "Now hear me quietly. I shall do nothing--you understand, _nothing_--until afternoon, unless circumstances render action imperative. You know where we stand; I know where we stand. I want to help you, to come to the unfortunate end quietly if nothing else. I shall be in my apartment all morning. Think it over. Talk it over with Boller. Then, when you have decided that you need help, come and see me." He took up his case and faced Anthony squarely. "At least I can see that you obtain a privilege or two in the local prison," he concluded. "Good-by." "Good Lord!" breathed Anthony Fry. "And in going," said Hobart Hitchin, "let me leave just one caution behind me, Fry. Have nothing shipped from this apartment until we have talked again!" Then Mr. Hitchin, courageously turning his back upon the pair, moved out of the flat, leaving Johnson Boller and his oldest friend in a state of partial paralysis. Anthony recovered in perhaps three seconds. "That--that infernal idiot!" said Anthony. "Why, the lunatic asylums have saner people in strait-jackets!" "Maybe they have," Johnson Boller said hoarsely, "but all the same, many a good man has sat in the electric chair on the strength of circumstantial evidence not nearly so good as he made out!" "Well, are you afraid of sitting there?" Anthony snapped. Johnson Boller mopped his brow. "Maybe not," he said. "But with the things he's pieced together he can go to the police and have 'em around here in ten minutes! That son-of-a-gun can have you and me locked up without bail, and--_that'd_ be nice, huh?" "He can do nothing of the sort!" "He can unless you show him a David Prentiss!" Mr. Boller urged. "He can unless we have the girl out and tell him the truth and have her corroborate it! Are you going to do that?" Anthony Fry hugged his head for an instant; it was really aching now. "No!" he said. "It's better than being jugged, Anthony," suggested Johnson Boller. "You know, I've got some reputation as well as you, and--say, what did you mean by introducing her as my wife?" "Was there anything else to do?" "Why not as your sister?" "Because Hitchin knows perfectly well that I haven't a sister, of course. Don't fume and thresh around like that, Johnson; it bothers me." "But if my wife ever hears of it----" "She never will," said Anthony, without great concern, "unless you have Hitchin for dinner some night and ask him to tell about it." "And Wilkins--he heard it, too!" "Well, I shall instruct Wilkins not to mention it, later on," Anthony sighed. "Now quiet down, will you, and let us think how----" "Have you decided how to get me out of here?" Mary asked brightly, entering without a sound. Anthony stayed the bitter words that were in his very throat. "We have been accused of murdering David Prentiss!" he said. "Really?" "Very really indeed!"