The judge raised his hand.
"Is this true, my man?" he demanded.
Borkins's face went an ugly purplish-red. For a moment it looked as
though he were going to have an apoplectic fit.
"Yes--damn you all--yes!" he replied venomously. "That's how I did
it--though Gawd alone knows how he come to find it out! But the game's
up now, and it's no more use a-lyin'."
"Never a truer word spoken," returned Cleek, with a little triumphant
smile. "I must admit, your Lordship, that upon that one point I was a
little shaky. Borkins has irrefutably proved that my theory was correct.
I must say I am indebted to him." Again the little smile looped up one
corner of his face. "And I have but just a little bit more of the tale to
tell, and then--I must leave the rest of it in your infinitely more
capable hands.
"... The reason why I mistrusted the story of the revolver? Why, upon
examination, that instrument belonging to Miss Brellier was a little too
clean and well-oiled to have been out of use for a matter of five months
or so.
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