Nash's statement did not create the excitement he had anticipated and he looked from one to the other of his companions in intense surprise. "Did you talk with Paul?" asked Trenholm quickly. "No--not directly. Betty told him of my presence. I stood a little distance from the bed"--he cleared his throat. "Illness is upsetting to me. I--eh--have a peculiar dread of--eh--disease. Paul made the necessary responses--after he was--eh--duly prompted." "I see!" Trenholm was watching the agitated clergyman with disconcerting attention. "And what was your motive in denying your visit to Paul on Monday night?" "Betty met me on my way here Tuesday afternoon and asked me not to tell of it"--Nash started up heatedly. "Why are you glaring at me in that offensive manner, Mr. Trenholm?" "Is your first name Adam?" asked the sheriff dryly. "No, Alexander," with indignant emphasis. "I see no occasion for levity, Mr. Trenholm. My wife is devoted to her niece and so am I. I agreed to carry out Betty's wishes, blindly it may be, and perhaps foolishly, but my motive was to protect her good name." "Explain your meaning." Trenholm was thoroughly awake at last, and the clergyman could not complain of not creating a sensation. "Betty received a special letter from Paul just before our departure from Toronto, telling of his illness and begging her to hurry to him," went on Nash. "He feared that he might not recover and desired her to marry him. Betty was frightfully upset, and on our approach to Baltimore asked that we leave the train there and catch the last train out for Upper Marlboro. We did so, and on reaching there I secured a Buick touring car from the local livery--" Trenholm nodded his head. "I know that," he said. "Get on with your story." Nash favored him with a frown. "I drove Betty out here. We left the house, as Miss Ward knows, before Paul's murder." He paused to clear his throat again. "I helped Betty into the back seat, as the curtains were up and she was more protected there, and, as the starter did not work, spent some few minutes cranking the car. Without addressing Betty again I headed the car for Washington and it was not until we were nearly at Anacostia that I discovered I was alone in the car." "What became of Miss Carter?" demanded Trenholm, as Nash came to a dramatic pause.