"I should rather think so," said Kilsip, with a curious light in his queer eyes. "Why, Gorby does nothing but brag about it, and his smartness in catching the supposed murderer!"
"Aha!" said Calton, leaning forward, and putting his arms on the table. "Supposed murderer. Eh! Does that mean that he hasn't been convicted by a jury, or do you think Fitzgerald is innocent?"
Kilsip stared hard at the lawyer, in a vague kind of way, slowly rubbing his hands together.
"Well," he said at length, in a deliberate manner, "before I got your note, I was convinced Gorby had got hold of the right man, but when I heard that you wanted to see me, and knowing that you are defending the prissoner, I guessed that you must have found something in his favor which you want me to look after."
"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, dryly.
"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 wine,
