CHAPTER XIII
AGAIN A PRISONER
I COULD see them leaning forward staring at me with suddenly blanched faces; I heard a sharp cry, as Miss Dunn dropped her head upon the arm of the sofa; a bitter oath from the lips of Calvert Dunn, as he leaped to his feet, his dark face fairly black from passion.
"You damned liar," he shouted, rage choking his utterance, "this was your work! you killed him!"
I thought he would spring at me, but, even as I drew back a single step for better defence, Jean Denslow came between us.
"No! not that! at least give Lieutenant King a chance to fell his story."
"Ay! be still, boy," and Donald rose to his feet, a massive figure of a man. "You found him lying dead, you say?"
"Yes, resting upon the floor huddled upon his left side. I turned him over on his back seeking the wound. It was a knife thrust in the throat, but the blade had been withdrawn. There are marks of blood on the window sill, from whence the assassin must have dropped to the ground."
For a moment there was no sound other than the quick
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