Taking that innocent boy up for a murder which I feel
certain he never committed. Of course, circumstantial evidence points
strongly against him, but--"
"He's better out of the way, at all events," interposed Cleek. "Mind you,
I don't say the chap is innocent. Men of Wynne's calibre have the knack
of raising the very devil in a person who is under their influence for
long. And there's Borkins's story." The queer little one-sided smile
looped up his cheek for a moment and was gone again in a twinkling. He
crossed to where Mr. Narkom stood, and put a hand on his arm. "Tell me,"
he said, quietly, "did you ever hear of a chap squirming and moaning and
doing the rest of the things that the man said Wynne was doing in the
garden pathway, when a bullet had got him clean through the brain?
Something 'fishy' there, if you like."
"I should think so," replied Mr. Narkom. "Why, the chap would have died
instantly. Then you think Borkins himself is guilty?"
"On the contrary, I do not," returned Cleek, emphatically. "If my
theory's correct, Borkins is not the murderer of Dacre Wynne.
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