"Now, hours afterward, in my office, the fact was borne home to me that, if you did search my rooms, you would have cause for the gravest suspicion, for the muddy trousers and the handkerchief which was stained with rust from wiping my hands upon it after I had picked up and thrown into the river the section of pipe used as a weapon by Cora Reesey, would speak against me. And there were the notes and the correspondence. I thought of all these matters, and realized what a fool I had been in leaving the suspicious evidences behind. "But I dared not go home, and I dared not attempt to leave town before the inquest, for I might be already under surveillance, and attempted flight would be looked upon as an admission of guilt. In an agony of mind impossible to describe, I stayed in town until after I had given in my testimony before the coroner. Then, in desperation, I resolved to flee. I must take chances of arrest. But I was not molested. I went to a remote section of the city, telephoned to Doctor Holcomb to call for me at a certain house next day--that was yesterday--and then resigned myself to circumstances. The doctor came, and I explained my situation by saying that my business affairs were badly tangled, and that, for the benefit of all concerned, it was necessary for a few days that I should keep away from my creditors." "Why did you write a note to me signed 'C. R.'?" asked Nick. "Because I wanted to stave off a discovery of John Dashwood's retreat until the operation should have been performed." "Have you allowed your daughter all these days to remain in ignorance of her husband's whereabouts and condition?" "I have relieved her mind," said Leonard impatiently and nervously. "I met her train at Madison, while she was on her way from Chicago to St. Louis, and I there informed her that John was all right and would show up in a few days. Since then I have written to her, my words carrying the same assurance. She believes in me, Mr. Carter"--the look which he bestowed on Nick was pathetic--"and, if I have deceived her, it has been for her own good. To-day she shall know the truth, and to-morrow will find her at her husband's bedside." "And you--you are going away, are you? Why, if I may ask?" Nick's voice was not pleasant. It was sharp, severe. "Because my business is a failure; because I am sick of St. Louis; because, with the few thousands I have secured, I may make a fresh start in some new section of the country; because I dislike notoriety, and Dashwood's story will----" "Will bring you into the lime-light, eh?" "Yes, that's it." Nick looked hard at Leonard. "You are a queer man, Mr. Leonard," he said. "Shrewd in some respects, utterly lacking in shrewdness in others. Let me see, have you explained everything? There is the matter of Luke Filbon's boat. What did you do with it? Turn it adrift, or scuttle it?" "I--I scuttled it," replied Leonard, with a start. "So I reasoned. And why did you scuttle it?"