“All around.” “In the desk?” “Yes, and in the table drawers and the cupboards,—and—and—everywhere.” Molly waved a vague hand about the room. “And behind the mirror?” Wise sprang this at her suddenly. The girl’s face blanched. “How—what made you think of that?” she gasped, her voice quaking with fear. “Ah, that brings back the picture, does it? You saw the—the person, hunting about; you saw him go to the mirror, gaze at it thoughtfully, then unscrew it, and then—then he succeeded in his search? Eh?” “Yes,” Molly breathed, fairly hypnotized into the truth by Wise’s suggestive air and tense, compelling voice. CHAPTER XVIII Fitted to a T “Now, look here, Molly,” and Wise fixed her with his piercing gaze, “you say Richard Bates married you. I don’t believe it for a minute, but I do believe somebody married you, or pretended to, to keep your mouth shut on an important matter. It may have been Bob Moore, or——but I’m going to find out who it was, and I’m going to find out now. If, as you say, it was Richard Bates, why did he do it?” Molly gulped in a scared, desperate fashion and her eyes rolled wildly about as she replied, “To shield somebody else.” “Who?” Zizi snapped at her. “You know well enough,” the girl sullenly answered. “But you said it was _not_ Mr Bates’ aunt.” “Oh, no, it wasn’t.” “Then,—it was——” “Yes, it was.” “Dorcas Everett, she means,” Zizi said, scornfully. “As well accuse me! You must know, Molly, you can’t put over any such a bluff as that!” “All right, you needn’t believe it if you don’t want to. But Miss Everett and her mother are the ‘women’ you are after.” “That child couldn’t do such a thing!” “Oh, _she_ didn’t do anything but obey her mother’s orders blindly. Mrs Everett and her maid, Kate Holland, committed the murder and Dorcas kept watch in the hall without knowing why she was doing it. Now, Mr Bates knows all about it,—and he knows that I know. And I said I’d tell if he didn’t marry me, so rather than have his girl accused, or his girl’s——” “Zizi, why do we listen to this pack of lies?” exclaimed Wise. “This girl is making up as fast as she can talk,——” “Indeed I’m not!” cried Molly, seemingly in desperation; “I can prove all I’m saying! Here’s my wedding ring——” “Yes, but Mr Bates didn’t give it to you,” said Zizi, scornfully. “I know who did, though, and if you’ll own up it will be better for you.” Now Zizi didn’t know at all,—in fact, she wasn’t sure that Molly hadn’t bought the ring herself, but both Wise and Zizi were at a loss to know which way to turn next, and they were omitting no possible chance at a stray bit of information. “How do you know?” demanded Molly, and again she looked frightened. “Now, see here, Molly,” Wise tried again, “if you’ll tell us the truth you’ll be rewarded. But if you don’t, you’ll not only lose your reward but you’ll find yourself in the biggest pickle you’ve ever been in.” “I’m not afraid,” was the pert reply. “My husband will look after me.”