“Of course, she didn’t!” cried Eunice. “You sha’n’t torment my aunt! Cease questioning her! Talk to me if you choose--and as you choose--but leave Miss Ames alone!” She faced her inquisitors defiantly, and even Shane quailed a little before her scornful eyes. “Well, ma’am, as you see, I ain’t got much choice in the matter. Here’s the case. You and your aunt and Mr. Embury was shut in those three rooms. Nobody else could get in. Come morning, the gentleman is dead--murdered. One of you two done it. It’s for us to find out which--unless the guilty party sees fit to confess.” “I do! I confess!” cried Aunt Abby. “I did it, and I’m willing to go to prison!” She was clearly hysterical, and though her words were positive, they by no means carried conviction. “Now, that’s all bosh,” declared Shane. “You’re sayin’ that, ma’am, to shield your niece. You know she’s the murderer and--” Eunice flew at Shane like a wild thing. She grasped his arm and whirled him around toward her as she glared into his face, quivering with indignation. “Coward!” she flung at him. “To attack two helpless women--to accuse me--me, of crime! Why, I could kill you: where you stand--for such an insinuation!” “Say, you’re some tiger!” Shane exclaimed, in a sort of grudging admiration. “But better be careful of your words, ma’am! If you could kill me--ah, there!” The last exclamation was brought forth by the sudden attack of Eunice, as she shook the big man so violently that he nearly lost his balance. “Say, you wildcat! Be careful what you do! You are a tiger!” “Yes,” Aunt Abby giggled, nervously. “Mr. Embury always called her ‘Tiger’.” “I don’t wonder!” and Shane stared at Eunice, who had stepped back but who still stood, like a wild animal at bay, her eyes darting angry fire. “Now, Mrs. Embury, let’s get down to business. Who’s your lawyer? “I am,” declared Alvord Hendricks. “I am her counsel. I represent Mrs. Embury. Eunice, say nothing more. Leave it to me. And, first, Shane, you haven’t enough evidence to arrest this lady. That dropper thing is no positive information against her. It might be the work of the servants--or some intruder. The story of that housemaid is not necessarily law and gospel. Remember, you’d get in pretty bad if you were to arrest Mrs. Sanford Embury falsely! And my influence with your superiors is not entirely negligible. You’re doing your duty, all right, but don’t overstep your authority--or, rather, don’t let your desire to make a sensational arrest cloud your judgment.” “That’s what I think, Mr. Hendricks,” said Driscoll, earnestly; “we’ve found the method, but I’m by no means sure we’ve found the criminal. Leastways, it don’t look sure to me. Eh, Shane?” “Clear enough to me,” the big man growled; but he was quite evidently influenced by Hendricks’ words. “However, I’m willing to wait--but we must put Mrs. Embury under surveillance--”