"The minute you confessed," answered the detective quietly, "I knew that you were doing it to shield someone. You could have had no possible motive for shielding either of the other two men under suspicion. I knew that it must be your brother. He had motive enough--he knew that you were in love with Mr. Warren--engaged to him. He knew that Warren was about to elope with another woman, that it would cause you intense misery. So he went to the station that night to prevent the elopement. Isn't that so, Gresham?" The young man nodded. "Yes. When I went to your apartment the morning after the killing, it was for the purpose of confessing. But then when you assured me that my sister was not under suspicion--I decided to wait awhile before saying anything." He paused--"And as to that night--I parked my car a couple of blocks away and walked to the station through Jackson Street, intending to cut through the yards and approach the waiting room from the passenger platform. I had no idea that--that there would be--a tragedy. I wanted to reason with Warren; to beg him to save my sister from suffering which I knew would be attendant on--his elopement. "He was walking in the yards as I entered from between the Pullman building and the baggage room. I don't know what he was doing there--but I spoke to him. He seemed startled at seeing me. I told him that I knew he was planning to elope--and begged him to call it off. "Much to my surprise, he immediately got nasty. He seemed to want to get rid of me. He told me it was none of my damned business what he was doing. He even admitted the truth of what I said. "That was the first hint of unpleasantness. But it grew--rapidly. He cursed me--anyway we had a brief, violent quarrel. He said something about my sister and I struck him. He clinched with me. We were fighting then--and I am a fairly good athlete. I broke out of a clinch and hit him pretty hard. He reached into his pocket and pulled a revolver. I managed to grab his hand before he could fire. I got it from him, and as I jerked it away--it went off. He fell-- "I was afraid then--panicky. I felt his body and realized that he was dead. A train had just come into the yards and there were switch engines puffing here and there--I was apprehensive that one of their headlights would pick me up. And there were some railroad men walking around the yards with lanterns in their hands. There was danger that I was going to be seen--and, had I been, I felt that I wouldn't have a leg to stand on; alone in such a place with the body of a man whom I admitted having shot--