"Do I understand, gentlemen," Helen began, and her voice gained
steadiness as she proceeded, "that the burglar whom Officer O'Ryan
and I caught lurking in our house was James Turnbull?"
"He was," answered Ferguson, and Stone, as the twins looked dumbly
at him, confirmed the detective's statement with a brief, "Yes."
The silence that ensued was broken by Barbara rising to her feet.
"Jimmie won his wager," she announced. Her gaze did not waver
before the concentrated regard of the men facing her. "He broke
into our house - but, oh, how can I pay my debt to him now that
he is dead!"
"Hush!" Helen laid a cautioning hand on her sister's arm as the
latter's voice gained in shrillness, the shrillness of approaching
hysteria.
"I am all right, Helen." Barbara waved her away impatiently.
"What caused Jimmie's death?"
"Angina pectoris," declared Rochester. "Too much excitement brought
on a fatal attack." Barbara nodded dazedly. "I knew he had heart
trouble, but -" She stepped toward Turnbull and her voice quivered
with feeling.
Pages:
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40