There I waited until the Museum
was closed. Then, when finally I got to the place where I thought
the dagger was--it was gone!"
"The point is," cut in Craig, interrupting, "who was the
mysterious visitor to Mendoza the night of his murder?"
He paused. No one seemed to be disposed to answer and he went on,
"Who else than the man who sought to sell the secret on its blade,
in return for Inez for whom he had a secret passion? I have
reasoned it all out--the offer, the quarrel, the stabbing with the
dagger itself, and the escape down the stairs, instead of by the
elevator."
"And I," put in Lockwood, "coming to report to Mendoza my failure
to find the dagger, found him dead--and at once was suspected of
being the murderer!"
Inez had revived and her quick ears had caught her lover's voice
and the last words.
Weak as she was, she sprang up and fairly ran into the next room.
"No--Chester--No!" she cried. "I never suspected--not even when I
saw the shoe-prints. No--that is the man,--there--I know it--I
know it!"
I hurried after her, as she flung herself again between Lockwood
and the rest of us, as if to shield him, while Lockwood proudly
caressed the stray locks of dark hair that fluttered on his
shoulder.
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