He lurched heavily--and Jimmie Dale caught him, and pushed him back into
the chair again.
"I thought--I thought there was blood on my hands," said Burton brokenly;
"that--that I had taken a man's life. It was horrible, horrible! I've
lived through three days that I thought would drive me mad, while I--I
tried to do my work, and--and talk to people, just as if nothing had
happened. And every one that spoke to me seemed so carefree and happy,
and I would have sold my soul to have changed places with them." He
stared at the form on the floor, and shivered suddenly. "It--it was like
that I saw him last!" he whispered. "But--but I do not understand."
Jimmie Dale smiled a little wearily.
"It was simple enough," he said. "Old Isaac had had his eyes on those
rubies for a long time. The easiest way of getting them was through you.
The revolver he gave you before you entered Sagosto's was loaded with
blank cartridges, the blood you saw was the old, old trick--a punctured
bladder of red pigment concealed under the vest."
"Let us get out of here!" Burton shuddered again. "Let us get out of
here--at once--now. If we're found here, we'll be accused of--THAT!"
"There is no hurry," Jimmie Dale answered quietly. "I have told you that
no one is liable to come here to-night--and whoever did this certainly
will not raise an alarm. And besides, there is still the matter of the
rubies--Burton.
Pages:
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264