"This is fierce!" he murmured. "It will be a terrible blow to Amy! I
wonder--I wonder if she'll have anything to do with me after this? The
shame of it--the disgrace! Oh, Amy! if I could only know!" and he
reached out his hand as though to thrust them beyond the confines of
the walls. He bowed his head in his arms and was silent and motionless
a long time.

Up in his hotel room, Colonel Ashley read the story of the case as
printed in the _Times_.

"This does begin to get interesting," he mused, as he finished reading
the account. "There are three possible motives in Darcy's case, and
one in King's. And I've known murder to be done on slighter
provocation. Darcy might have resented being called a fortune hunter,
which, I suppose, is what the old lady meant, or he may have been stung
to sudden passion by the holding back of the thousand dollars and the
taunts about his lathe. Most inventors are crazy anyhow.

"As for King--if he was drunk enough, and wanted money--or thought he
could get some diamonds--it might be--it might be. I wonder who his
lady friend is? He daren't tell, I suppose, on account of his wife. I
wonder--"

"Oh, what am I bothering about it for, anyhow? I came here to rest and
fish, and I'm going to. I've resigned from detective work! There!"
He tossed the paper behind the bed. "I'll not look at another issue.
Now let's see how my rods are. I'm going to get an early start in the
morning, if this infernal rain lets up. Blast that Shag! He's jammed
a ferrule!" and, with blazing eyes, the colonel looked at one of the
joints of his choicest rod. A brass connection had been bent.