But if only there had been another witness, someone
who actually saw this thing done, or who had heard the pistol-shot--not
that I'm doubting your word at all, Doctor--it might help to elucidate
matters. There is no one you know of who could have heard--and not
spoken?"
At this juncture Borkins came quietly into the room, holding the little
revolver in his right hand, and handed it to Cleek.
"If you please, sir," he said, impassively, and with a quick look into
Merriton's grave face, "_I_ heard. And I can speak, if the jury wants me
to, I don't doubt but what my tale would be worth listenin' to, if only
to add my hevidence to the rest. That man there"--he pointed one shaking
forefinger at his master's face, and glowered into it for a moment "was
the murderer of poor Mr. Wynne!"
CHAPTER XVI
TRAPPED!
"You damned, skulking liar!"
Merriton leapt forward suddenly, and it was with difficulty that Cleek
could restrain him from seizing the butler round the throat.
"Gently, gently, my friend," interposed Cleek, as he neatly caught
Merriton's upthrown arm.
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