So Burdon sat by himself, brooding, on the veranda, and presently saw the boy, Fibsy, returning toward the house. “Come here, young one,” Burdon called out. “Nixy, old one,” was the saucy retort. “Why not?” in a conciliatory tone. “’Cause you spoke disrespectful like. I’m a detective, you know.” “All right, old pal; come here, will you?” Fibsy grinned and came, seating himself on a cushioned swing nearby. “Whatcha want?” he demanded. “Only a line o’ talk. Your Mr. Stone, now, do you think he’ll show up soon, or has he gone for a nap?” “Fleming Stone doesn’t take naps,” Fibsy said, disdainfully; “he isn’t that sort.” “Then he’ll be down again shortly?” “Dunno. Maybe he’s begun his fasting and prayer over this phenomenal case.” “Does he do that?” “How do I know? I’m not of a curious turn of mind, me havin’ other sins to answer for.” “I know. Mr. Stone told us you have no respect for the truth.” “Did he, now! Well, he’s some mistaken! I have such a profound respect for the truth that I never use it except on very special occasions.” “Is this one?” “It is not! Don’t believe a word I say just now. In fact, I’m so lit up with the beauties and glories of this place, that I hardly know what I am a-saying! Ain’t it the show-place, though!” “Yes, it is. Looky here, youngster, can’t you go up and coax Mr. Stone to see me—just a few minutes?” “Nope; can’t do that. But you spill it to me, and if it’s worth it, I’ll repeat it to him. I’m really along for that very purpose, you see.” “But I haven’t anything special to tell him——” “Oh, I see! Just want the glory and honor of chinning with the great Stone!” As this so nearly expressed Burdon’s intention, he grinned sheepishly, and Fibsy understood. “No go, old top,” he assured him. “F. Stone will send for you if he thinks you’ll interest him in the slightest degree. Better wait for the sending—it’ll mean a more satisfactory interview all round.” “Well, then, let’s you and me chat a bit.” “Oho, coming round to sort of like me, are you? Well, I’m willing. Tell me this: how far from the victim did the shooter stand?” “The doctor said, as nearly as he could judge, about ten feet or so away.” “H’m,” and Fibsy looked thoughtful. “That would just about suit all three of the present claimants for the honor, wouldn’t it?” “Yes; and would preclude anybody not inside the room.” “Unless he was close to the window.” “Sure. But it ain’t likely, is it now, that a rank outsider would come right up to the window and fire through it, and not be seen by anybody?” “No; it isn’t. And, of course, if that had happened, and any one of the three Wheelers had seen it, they would be only too glad to tell of it. I wonder they haven’t made up some such yarn as that.”