He told you how you could get it--you
had access to Maddon's safe, you were Maddon's confidential
secretary, fully in your employer's trust, the last man on earth to be
suspected--and there were Maddon's famous, priceless rubies."
Jimmie Dale paused. Burton made no answer.
"And so," said Jimmie Dale presently, "to save yourself from the death
penalty you took them."
"Yes," said Burton, scarcely above his breath. "Are you an officer? If
you are, take me, have done with it! Only for Heaven's sake end it! If
you're not--"
Jimmie Dale was not listening. "The cupboard at the rear of the room,"
she had said. He walked across to it now, opened it, and, after a little
search, found a small bundle. He returned with it in his hand, and,
kneeling beside the dead man on the floor, his back to Burton, untied
it, took out a red wig and beard, and slipped them on to old Isaac's
head and face.
"I wonder," he said grimly, as he stood up, "if you ever saw this man
before?"
"My God--PERLEY!" With a wild cry, Burton was on his feet, straining
forward like a man crazed.
"Yes," said Jimmie Dale, "Perley! Sort of an ironic justice in his end
as far as you are concerned, isn't there? I think we'll leave him like
that--as Perley. It will provide the police with an interesting little
problem--which they will never solve, and--STEADY!"
Burton was rocking on his feet, the tears were streaming down his face.
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