“One just has to feel hopeful in the spring, Frank,” she insisted, brushing the blossoms gently against his cheek. From the slope they could look down into the length of Egypt's main street. “Why, there goes Tasper Britt toward his office and he actually waved his hand to a man--honest! The spring does soften folks. If he does know something about the inside of the dreadful puzzle, as you and I have talked so many times, I do believe I can coax him to tell me.” “I don't want you to coax him, dear. Squire Hexter has put the thing up to Britt, man to man, and I think it better to let it stand that way.” “But if we could get only a little hint to work from!” “I'm afraid you'll find him as stingy with hints as he is with everything else. He does know--something! I would not put him above arranging that frame-up that put me where I was found that night,” he declared, with bitterness. “No, Frank, I tell you again that I don't believe he knew it was going to happen. When I stood there outside the curtain that night I was looking straight at him, and at nobody else. I don't remember another face. Tasper Britt is not actor enough to make up the expression that I saw. It was simple, absolute, flabbergasted fright!” They started down the slope and walked in silence. “He's considerable of a coward,” Vaniman admitted, after his pondering. “I'm depending on that fact, more or less. I don't believe he'll dare to stand up as a witness in court and perjure himself. Squire Hexter has a line of questions that he and I have prepared very carefully. Britt will have to testify that I did not have sole opportunity. In considering crimes, it's proving sole opportunity that sends folks to prison!” She turned away her face and set her teeth upon her lower lip, controlling her agitation. “I'm trying to face the thing just as bravely as I can, Vona. On the face of it I'm in bad! When I remember how Britt maneuvered with me, I feel like running to him and twisting his head off his neck.” When they arrived in front of Britt Block, Vaniman scowled at the stone effigy in its niche. Then, when his eyes came down from that complacent countenance, they beheld the face of Tasper Britt framed in his office window. The Britt in the bank was distinctly in an ugly mood. And there was a challenge in his demeanor, a sneer in the twist of his features. “Vona, I'm going in there,” Vaniman declared. “There's got to be a showdown, but it's no job for you!” She offered neither protest nor advice. At that moment the young man was manifestly in a state of mind which sudden resolution had inflamed with something like desperation. When he strode in through the front door Britt disappeared from the window. Vona, following her lover, put her hand on his arm when he arrived in front of the office door. “Don't you need me with you in there?” She could not hide her apprehensiveness. “I'm going to hold myself in, dear! Don't be worried. But it's best for me to see him alone.”