“I don’t know why. I don’t know that he _was_ afraid—of Gleason or anybody else. But I do say that he might have been—there are a hundred reasons why a man may be secretly afraid of another man. Who knows the secrets of his neighbor’s heart? I’m making no claim, educing no theory, but it’s at least a fact that Davenport did speak of fear as a motive. Now, I merely say, if you’re going to suspect him, you may as well use that tip. That’s all.” Pollard smoked on in silence, and each of the four thought over this new idea. “It’s shocking, that’s what it is, shocking!” exclaimed Dean Monroe, at last. “I’m ashamed of you all, ashamed of myself, for harboring this thought for a minute. Forget it, everybody.” “Not so fast, Dean,” Barry rebuked him. “Any thought has a right to expression—at the right time and place. I’ve given you this suggestion for what it’s worth. I’ve nothing to base a suspicion on—except that the first man to hear of a crime or to go to the spot is a fair topic to think about.” “But a doctor—called there!” Monroe went on, “You might as well suspect the police themselves!” “Yes, if they gave us a surprising story of a man killed by a shot and _afterward_ telephoning for help.” “That story is fishy,” admitted Lane. “You bet it is,” assented Barry. “I can’t _see_ that telephoning business at all!” CHAPTER VIII Miss Adams’ Story In the offices of the District Attorney, Lane discussed the case with Belknap. Without giving names or making any definite accusations, the lawyer asked the Assistant District Attorney what he thought of Dr Davenport’s story. “True on the face of it,” replied Belknap, promptly. “Yes,” Lane reminded him, “because it has not occurred to you to think otherwise about it. But, how can you explain that telephoning?” “It can’t be explained, so far as we know about it now. But, look here, if Doctor Davenport killed Gleason—which, by the way, is the most absurd idea I ever heard of—the last thing he would do would be to make up such an unbelievable yarn as that of the man telephoning after he had been fatally shot.” “Doctor didn’t quite say that.” “Circumstances say that. Gleason called up the doctor’s office and said he was shot. The fatal shot was fired first. Elucidate.” “I can’t. That’s the reason I’m here. We’ve got to find out about it. I’m the Lindsays’ lawyer, and Mrs Lindsay is having hysterics and all that. She’s of a revengeful temperament and wants the murderer of her brother punished. This is not an unnatural feeling, and I want to do all I can to push matters along. I don’t want the case to drift on and on, until it’s laid on the shelf with lots of other unsolved mysteries.” “I don’t either, Lane,” Belknap said, earnestly, “and we’re working on it night and day. Any news, Prescott?” The query was addressed to the detective, who entered at the moment. “No, Mr Belknap. But what you folks talking about? Doctor Davenport?”