"
"Right!" said Calton, laconically.
"As Mr. Fitzgerald said he met Whyte at the corner and hailed
the cab--" went on the detective.
"How do you know that?" interrupted Calton, sharply.
"Gorby told me."
"How the devil did he find out?" cried the lawyer, with genuine
surprise.
"Because he is always poking and prying about," said Kilsip,
forgetting, in his indignation, that such poking and prying formed part
of detective business. "But, at any rate," he went on quickly, "if Mr.
Fitzgerald did leave Mr. Whyte, the only chance he's got of proving his
innocence is that he did not come back, as the cabman alleged."
"Then, I suppose, you think that Fitzgerald will prove an ALIBI," said
Calton.
"Well, sir," answered Kilsip, modestly, "of course you know more about
the case than I do, but that is the only defence I can see he can
make."
"Well, he's not going to put in such a defence."
"Then he must be guilty," said Kilsip, promptly.
"Not necessarily," returned the barrister, drily.
"But if he wants to save his neck, he'll have to prove an ALIBI,"
persisted the other.
"That's just where the point is," answered Calton. "He doesn't want to
save his neck."
Kilsip, looking rather bewildered, took a sip of whisky, and waited to
hear what Mr. Calton had to say.
"The fact is," said Calton, lighting a fresh cigar, "he has some
extraordinary idea in his head. He refuses absolutely to say where he
was on that night.
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