chair as he finished speaking, and had walked to the window.
"All this may be so," said the warden, breaking the silence—his voice was steadier now, but very low, very sober. "I believe it is so, Kreelmar—but does it help us any? Does it do anything but—but make it harder?"
Doctor Kreelmar turned from the window and came back to the table.
"Yes," he said earnestly; "it helps. "And it does more than that—it shows us the way. Assuming Varge's innocence, we must prove it—it forces us to prove it, to probe this thing to the very bottom. It gives us not only the right to do it, but it makes it our duty to do it—for Janet's sake alone, if for no other reason."
Warden Rand smiled a little wanly.
"It is not an easy thing to do," he said dully.
"Perhaps not," admitted Doctor Kreelmar. "But we've got to try. To begin with, Varge is as much a doctor as I am, all but the name, and it will be natural enough for you to detail him to the infirmary where he will be with me."
"You mean," asked the warden quickly, "that you think you can make him speak for himself—on account of what's happened to-night—on account of—of Janet?"
"No," said Doctor Kreelmar thoughtfully. "No; I have little or no hope of that. In fact, there is less likelihood than ever of it. If he would have spoken, it was his way out to-night—and he went back there instead. No; I was not thinking of that—it simply solves the
