went to bed. We s'posed after we got up this mo'nin' he was sleepin'
in his room till the paper come and I looked at it." Johnnie gave way
to lament. "I told him awhile ago we had orto go back to Arizona or
they'd git him. And now they've gone and done it sure enough."

Keen as a hawk on the hunt, Beatrice turned to her father quickly.
"I'm going to get Clarendon on the 'phone. He'll know all about it."

"Why will he know all about it?"

"Because he was with Clay. He's the man the paper says the police are
looking for--the man with Clay when it happened."

Her father's eyes lit. "That's good guessing, Bee."

It was her fiancé's man who answered the girl's call. She learned that
Clarendon was still in his room.

"He's quite sick this morning, Miss," the valet added.

"Tell him I want to talk with him. It's important."

"I don't think, Miss, that he's able--"

"Will you please tell him what I say?"

Presently the voice of Bromfield, thin and worried, came to her over
the wire. "I'm ill, Bee. Absolutely done up. I--I can't talk."

"Tell me about Clay Lindsay. Were you with him when--when it happened?"