"Three of them. Yes! That is the kind of way Santiago would go to work. Try and frighten Carr into parting with a substantial amount. But I do not think that he would kill the goose with the golden eggs--at all events until he was in possession of some of the eggs. No, I can't think the Mexican is guilty." "Then Joyce must have done it." "Perhaps. But he is such a coward." "If not either of those two, who is it?" asked Bess. "Not Frisco?" Herrick looked at her, "I am not so sure," he said coolly, "you see the alibi you provide for Frisco does not touch the subject. You saw the man at the door when three shots were fired. Well, if you remember at the inquest it was proved--as much as it could be proved--that those three shots were fired at a dead body. Therefore when you heard them the man was already dead. Why should Frisco not have done it and then come down leaving his accomplice to do what he liked." "I see what you mean," said Bess, "it was the bullet that killed the Colonel--the old fashioned bullet--" "Fired from this if I am not mistaken," went on Herrick producing the pistol. "You can't be sure of that. And admitting that it is so, how did the pistol come into possession of Joyce, if Frisco used it?" "I am in the dark there," said Herrick vexedly. "I must get the truth out of Joyce. Time to see him now," and he glanced at his watch. "As to the pistol I'll see Bridge and find out if the bullet fits." Bess held out her hand. "Let me do that," she said, "while you are watching Joyce and the Mexican I can attend to that matter." "Do you think you will be able?" hesitated Herrick. "I am certain I can. Besides I want to have some part in the discovery of the truth." The doctor handed her the pistol. He knew that she was a clever girl, and would not undertake a thing unless she could execute it thoroughly. "You and I can do the detective business together," he said. "I will look after Joyce and Santiago and Frisco if I can find him; your part will be to trace the pistol and to see if the bullet fits. You can manage Bridge?" "Easily," replied Bess, putting the pistol away, "he is so conceited that a little flattery goes a long way with him." "Don't let him meddle in this matter. He will only spoil it. I know what to do. Leave it to me." Dr. Jim took up his hat to go. Suddenly he recollected a point he had not yet discussed and sat down again. "About Pentland Corn," said he, "what do you think of him Bess?" "He is a good man," she replied promptly, "but he is weak. I am sure there is nothing wrong about him." "Yet why should he make such a friend of Santiago?" "I do not know. Shall I ask him?" "He would not tell you the truth if you did. He has his own secrets." Bess nodded. "But I do not believe they are bad secrets," she said, "the rector is a man with a past--a sad past. Did you know he was a soldier before he became a parson?"