"We will, never worry--" Inspector Mitchell, who had been an interested spectator of the scene from the doorway, stepped inside the library, his face set and stern. "Allow me to conduct this investigation in my own way, Mr. Potter. Stand aside, sir." He turned to address some one in the hall. "Welsh, go tell Major Wallace that he will find Miss Baird here and not in the parlor." "Wallace!" Potter faced about. "Is he still hanging around here? Why don't you throw him out?" "Major Wallace has a perfect right to come here if he wishes to." Kitty spoke with warmth. "How dare you, Ben, dictate who shall call here and who shall not? This is my house." "Is it?" Potter had lashed himself into a fury--a fury apparently intensified by the arrival of Leigh Wallace, for he turned and shook his fist at the young officer. "As your nearest of kin, Kitty, I insist that your aunt's wishes be carried out and that you shall not receive Wallace again. She knew what character of man he is--and that knowledge was the cause of her death." Craige stepped forward. "Are you aware of what you are saying, Ben?" he asked. "That you virtually accuse Major Wallace of killing Miss Susan Baird?" "Sure." Potter laughed recklessly. "Miss Baird had proof of his treachery--" "Treachery? To whom?" Craige's hand on Kitty's shoulder warned her to be silent as he shot his questions at the distraught naturalist. "To Kitty--playing fast and loose with her affections, and holding clandestine meetings with--" Potter licked his dry mouth, while his eyes, inflamed with hate, rested on Wallace's white face, "with my wife." "You lie!" The denial rang out clearly. Only Inspector Mitchell's powerful arm prevented Wallace from springing on Potter. "You d--mn scoundrel, to blacken your wife's name." "Stop! Stop!" Nina Potter wrung her hands. "You are both mad!" "This scene has gone far enough!" Craige spoke with authority. His calmness brought some comfort to Kitty--they were not all losing their heads! "Quiet, Potter. Now, Mitchell, what have you to say?" Inspector Mitchell surveyed the small circle with critical eyes. He noted Nina Potter, standing white-faced and terror-stricken, her gaze riveted on her infuriated husband. Kitty, bewilderment struggling with dawning horror as she stared at her cousin and his young wife and then at Wallace, had sunk down on the nearest chair. Wallace, his eyes downcast, stood swaying on his feet. Mitchell glanced at Craige and pointed slightly to Wallace. It was plain to both men that the young officer had been drinking. "Suppose we sit down," Mitchell indicated the chairs about the tea table, and taking their consent for granted, deliberately seated himself. With some hesitancy, Potter followed his example and Wallace did so mechanically. Nina Potter, her feet dragging as she stumbled nearer, half fell into an armchair and Craige took the vacant one by Kitty's side.