"My friend," said Astro genially, "jammed wounds do not bleed to any extent. It is a V-shaped scar then?"
"What of it?" The chauffeur stood poised in a sinister attitude.
"That's what I want to know, too," cried Masson. "By heaven! do you mean that this fellow here had anything—"
Astro raised his hand. "One moment," he interrupted. "First, I want to ask you, Walters, to show me where the gasoline tank is in this car?"
A look of terror swept over the young man's face. He raised the wrench in his hand and rushed at the palmist. Astro avoided him lithely and grappled with him. The man struck out, tore himself free, and dashed for the door. He would have made his escape had not Masson jumped for him. There was another scuffle. Masson, now convinced that he had his sweetheart's murderer before him, fought like a maniac. Astro, who had been thrown to the ground by the force of the blow he had received, now rose, and the next moment drew out a revolver and covered his prisoner.
"Let go, or I shoot you like a dog!" he barked out between his teeth. "Let him go, Masson! This is not for you. The law will attend to him. The man's evil enough; but not so bad as you think. He's no murderer, really."
At these words Walters turned to Astro with a gleam of hope in his eye. "Oh, I'm not, sir! Before God, I had no intention of murdering her! I didn't know I had till afterward. I only tried to keep her from screaming, and she dropped like a log. It was
