His jaw sagged, and his eyes wandered.

"Oh, hell," he managed to articulate. "What is your real game?"

"Exactly as I have stated it, Coombs. To the best of my knowledge
Philip Henley is dead--at least he has disappeared--and his widow is
the rightful heir to this estate."

"Wal, I reckon he ain't dead--not by a jugful."

I felt the hot blood pump in my veins. Did the man know this to be
true, or was he merely making the claim for effect?

"That, of course, remains to be proven," I returned smilingly.

"Oh, does it, now! So does this yer wife business, to my thinkin'.
Wal, it won't take long ter settle the matter, believe me. Who are you
enyhow?"

"My name is Craig--Gordon Craig."

"A lawyer?"

"Not guilty."

"A damn detective?"

"Same plea."

I thought he gave a grunt of relief; anyhow there was more assurance in