"What do you mean?" he gasped, pushing back his chair. "How was he
implicated?"
"That I cannot tell you," answered Calton, "until I read his
confession."
"Ah!" said Kilsip, becoming very attentive.
"Yes," said Calton, turning to Kilsip, "your hunt after Moreland is a
wild-goose chase, for the murderer of Oliver Whyte is discovered."
"Discovered!" cried Kilsip and the doctor in one breath.
"Yes, and his name is Mark Frettlby."
Kilsip shot a glance of disdain out of his bright black eyes, and gave
a low laugh of disbelief, but the doctor pushed back his chair
furiously, and arose to his feet.
"This is monstrous," he cried, in a rage. "I won't sit still and hear
this accusation against my dead friend."
"Unfortunately, it is too true," said Brian, sadly.
"How dare you say so?" said Chinston, turning angrily on him. "And you
going to marry his daughter!"
"There is only one way to settle the question," said Calton, coldly.
"We must read his confession."
"But why the detective?" asked the doctor, ungraciously, as he took his
seat.
"Because I want him to hear for himself that Mr. Frettlby committed the
crime, that he may keep silence."
"Not till I've arrested him," said Kilsip, determinedly.
"But he's dead," said Brian.
"I'm speaking of Roger Moreland," retorted Kilsip. "For he and
no other murdered Oliver Whyte."
"That's a much more likely story," Chinston said.
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