"The next morning while you were taking your shower I was putting up your laundry," Hazel went on. "I found a revolver in your drawer. I didn't think anything of it then--I hadn't even read the papers about the--the--killing. But later, I remembered it. I went back to look for the revolver--just why, I don't know--and it was gone. I questioned you about it a couple of days later, and you denied that you had ever had a revolver in the house. And I knew then, Garry--I knew that you had done it." He squeezed her hand. "We always did know more about each other than we were told, didn't we, Little Sis? Because at that moment, too, I knew that you knew!" The young man turned back to the detectives--"And what now?" he questioned. "We'll have to hold you, Gresham. You'll have to go through the form of a trial--but you'll get off, don't worry!" Sister and brother left the room hand-in-hand. Alone again, the two detectives faced each other. "You win, David," said Leverage admiringly. "Though darned if I know how you do it?" "A combination of luck and common sense," returned Carroll simply. "This time it was principally luck. It usually is in such cases--but most detectives don't admit it. It is the wild-eyed reporter with the vivid imagination whom we can thank for this solution. It was his fiction that brought about Miss Gresham's ridiculous confession and that which caused me to know that she must be shielding her brother. As to how matters stand--I say Thank God!" "Why?" "Garry Gresham will undoubtedly be freed; it was a clear case of self-defense. Unfortunately, the fact that there was an elopement will have to be known--but that is a comparatively trivial thing, unpleasant as it may be for Miss Gresham. And, most of all--I'm glad because Naomi Lawrence's name will not be dragged into it." "How will you work that, David?" "It can be done, Eric. The district attorney is a pretty good friend of mine--and he's a good square fellow. Of course he will have to know the entire story; and it is a certainty that he will believe it. And when he does--you know that he will handle the case so that Mrs. Lawrence will not be connected. Irregular--yes. But you believe he can--and will--do it, don't you?" "You bet your bottom dollar he will. He's another nut like you--so bloomin' human it hurts." "And now--" said Carroll, "I want to chat with William Barker. There are one or two loose ends I want to clear up." Barker was very humble as he entered the room. "You're free of the murder charge," stated Carroll promptly, "but we may hold you for blackmail." Barker heaved a sigh of relief. "I ain't objectin' to that, Mr. Carroll. It's a small thing when a man has thought he might be strung up." "Who killed Warren?" questioned the detective. "Don't you know?" came the surprised answer. "Yes--but I'm asking you." "I suppose you're driving at something new," retorted Barker, "but _I_ really think Mrs. Lawrence shot him."