"The first point," said Langholm, slowly, "is that he was in Chelsea, or
at least within a mile of the scene of the murder, on the night that it
took place."
"So were a good many people," remarked Steel, smiling as he dipped the
sculls in and out, and let his supple wrists fall for the feather, as
though he were really rowing.
"But he left his--he was out at the time!" declared Langholm, making his
amended statement with all the meaning it had for himself.
"Well, you can't hang him for that."
"He will have to prove where he was, then."
"I am afraid it will be for you to prove a little more first."
Langholm sat very dogged with his notes. There had been a pause on
Steel's part; there was a thin new note in his voice. Langholm was too
grimly engrossed to take immediate heed of either detail, or to watch
the swift changes in the face which was watching him. And there he lost
most of all.
"The next point is that he undoubtedly knew Minchin in Australia--"
"Aha!"
"That he was and is a rich man, whereas Minchin was then on the verge of
bankruptcy, and that Minchin only found out that he was in England
thirty-six hours before his own death, when he wrote to his old friend
for funds.
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