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Doctor Parker rose and walked to the table; when they came into view he was lighting another cigarette. Sergeant Barnes carried a little bundle of something or other, which he placed beneath the cushion of a chair. Then he walked solemnly up to where I sat.
“Well, my boy,” he said, “I’m going to arrest you for the murder of Henry Drew!”
Mary Will gave a little cry, and her hot hand grasped mine. I was stunned—the thing was so sudden.
“This—this is ridiculous,” I stammered.
Mark Drew came up and stood by the side of Barnes.
“The sergeant is a bit crude in his methods,” he remarked. “What he should have said was that, with your permission, he is about to place you under arrest, as an experiment. You’ll understand later. Do you mind?”
“Well, I—can’t say I fancy it.”
