Bassett was having a visitor. He sat in his chair while that visitor

ranged excitedly up and down the room, a short stout man, well dressed

and with a mixture of servility and importance. The valet's first words,

as he stood inside the door, had been significant.

"I should like to know, first, if I am talking to the police."

"No--and yes," Bassett said genially. "Come and sit down, man. What I

mean is this. I am a friend of Judson Clark's, and this may or may not

be a police matter. I don't know yet."

"You are a friend of Mr. Clark's? Then the report was correct. He is

still alive, sir?"

"Yes."

The valet got out a handkerchief and wiped his face. He was clearly

moved.

"I am glad of that. Very glad. I saw some months ago, in a

newspaper--where is he?"

"In New York. Now Melis, I've an idea that you know something about the

crime Judson Clark was accused of. You intimated that at the inquest."

"Mrs. Lucas killed him."

"So she says," Bassett said easily.

The valet jumped and stared.

"She admits it, as the result of an accident. She also admits hiding the

revolver where you found it."

"Then you do not need me."

"I'm not so sure of that."

The valet was puzzled.

"I want you to think back, Melis. You saw her go down the stairs,

sometime before the shot. Later you were confident she had hidden the

revolver, and you made a second search for it. Why? You hadn't heard her

testimony at the inquest then. Clark had run away. Why didn't you think

Clark had done it?"

"Because I thought she was having an affair with another man. I have

always thought she did it."

Bassett nodded.

"I thought so. What made you think that?"

"I'll tell you. She went West without a maid, and Mr. Clark got a

Swedish woman from a ranch near to look after her, a woman named

Thorwald. She lived at her own place and came over every day. One night,

after Mrs. Thorwald had started home, I came across her down the road

near the irrigator's house, and there was a man with her. They didn't

hear me behind them, and he was giving her a note for some one in the

house."

"Why not for one of the servants?"

"That's what I thought then, sir. It wasn't my business. But I saw the

same man later on, hanging about the place at night, and once I saw

her with him--Mrs. Lucas, I mean. That was in the early evening. The

gentlemen were out riding, and I'd gone with one of the maids to a hill

to watch the moon rise. They were on some rocks, below in the canyon."




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