"He is found!" said Julf, quickly. "I got a telegram while you were in the park. The police picked him up in Whitechapel, and will send him down here to-morrow. If he can swear that Sir Lewis gave him the boots, I shall get a warrant out for that man's arrest."
"I believe he is guilty," said Hagar, in a meditative fashion, "and yet I am not altogether sure."
"Why not? There is certainly a strong case against him."
"Yes, yes; but why, if Sir Lewis is guilty, should Kerris keep silent, and not declare his innocence? I must see the man and find out. Can I get into the jail?"
"I'll take you there myself to-morrow morning," replied Julf. "I should like to know the reason of his silence also. It can't be love of Sir Lewis as makes him hold his tongue."
"No; that is what puzzles me. After all, like Kerris, the baronet may be innocent."
Julf shook his head. "I can't think where you will find a third party on which to lay the guilt--unless," he added, with an afterthought, "you blame the Irish boy who pawned the boots."
"It may be even him!" said Hagar, seriously. "But we'll know to-morrow, I fancy. Kerris, Sir Lewis, Micky--h'm! I wonder which of the three killed that poor young man."
Hagar thought over this problem for an hour or so, then, not being able to solve it, she put it out of her head for the night. As for Julf, he was so much impressed by Hagar's cleverness in finding the pistol and constructing a case against Sir Lewis--who he now began to believe was guilty--that the next morning, before taking her to see George Kerris in prison, he conducted her to an outlying farm.
"Laura Brenton lives here," he said; "ask her about Sir Lewis, and see if we can strengthen the case against him."
Laura was a fine, tall, handsome girl, somewhat masculine in her looks; but at the present moment she seemed ill, and appeared haggard---which was no wonder, seeing that one of her lovers was dead, and the other in prison. However, she was quite willing to answer Hagar's questions, and declared most emphatically that Kerris was innocent.
"He wouldn't kill a fly!" said she, weeping, "although he was angry with me for meeting Sir Leslie; but I never saw any harm in doing so."
"Opinions differ," said Hagar, coldly, not approving of this morality. "You met Sir Leslie on the night of the murder?"
"I--I didn't!" stammered the girl, fiercely. "Who says so?"
"Sir Lewis. He told me that his cousin left him in the park--after their quarrel--to see you by the Queen's Pool."
This Laura denied flatly. "I went into Marlow on that evening to buy some ribbon," she explained, "but I never went near Welby Park. Sir Lewis is a liar and a murderer!"
"A murderer? Why should he murder his cousin?" asked Hagar, sharply.
"Because he loved me, and I would have nothing to say to him."
"You loved Sir Leslie?"
"I did not!" blazed out the girl, wrathfully. "I loved neither of them, but only George Kerris. He is innocent, and Sir Lewis is guilty. I believe he killed his cousin with the pistol Sir Leslie gave him."
"What do you know about that pistol?"
"Why," explained Laura, quietly, "I went to Welby Park with father to pay the rent, and in the library, on the table, there was a pistol with a silver plate on it. Sir Lewis--he was not the baronet then---told me that Sir Leslie had given it to him, and showed me his own name on the plate. As Sir Leslie was shot with a pistol, I believe Sir Lewis did it."
"But had not George Kerris a pistol also?"
"Yes; an old thing that wouldn't fire straight. I tried it myself at a target which George set up on the farm."
"The pistol isn't in George's house."
"I don't know where it is, then," said the girl, indifferently; "but I am sure of one thing, that George is innocent. Oh, try and get him out of jail!"
"And Sir Lewis hanged?" said Hagar, drily.
"Yes!" cried Laura, fiercely: "he's a murdering beast; I should like to see him dead!"
Rather wondering at the fierceness of the girl, Hagar left her, and went on to the jail in which Kerris was incarcerated. The gamekeeper was a huge blond man, with a fresh, handsome face. Usually his expression was frank and kindly, but now, owing to recent events, he looked sullen. In spite of all Hagar's questioning, he persisted in declining an explanation.
"I'll say neither one thing nor another," he declared; "if I did kill Sir Leslie, or I didn't, is my business. Anyhow, he deserved to be killed."
"Who are you screening?" asked Hagar, changing her tactics.
"No one," replied Kerris, a color rising in his face.
"Yes, you are, else you would not jeopardize your neck. But you shall be saved in spite of yourself. I know who killed Sir Leslie."
"You do?" asked the man, looking up anxiously.
"Yes, his cousin, Sir Lewis. We have found his pistol concealed where the murder took place; he stole your boots to wear them, and throw the blame on you. You came out of Welby Park at ten o'clock, after the murder was committed. Did you not see Sir Lewis?"
"No, I didn't," replied Kerris, hastily. "I saw no one. I heard a shot, and thought poachers might be about, but as Sir Leslie had discharged me I didn't think it was my business to see after them."
"Sir Lewis paid you a visit shortly before the murder?"
"Yes, he did; to see me about some game."
"Did you miss the boots after he left?"
"I never missed them till the night of the murder, when I wanted to put 'em on," said Kerris. "I hadn't worn them for some days, as they were new boots, and rather hurt my feet."
"Then no doubt Sir Lewis stole them for his own purposes," said Hagar triumphantly. "He is guilty, and you---"
"I am innocent!" cried Kerris, proudly. "I don't mind saying it now. I never killed Sir Leslie; I never laid a finger on him."
"And you did not say so before because you are screening some one. Who is it?"
Kerris made no reply, but looked uneasy.
Before Hagar could repeat her question, the answer thereto came from a most unexpected quarter. The door of the cell was opened, and Julf entered, with an expression of profound astonishment on his face.
"Here's a go!" he cried to Hagar. "Micky has arrived, and has told me from whom he received the boots!"
"Sir Lewis?"
"No! I have seen Sir Lewis, and he denies his guilt; also, he tells me a story which corroborates Micky's evidence, and explains why Kerris here holds his tongue."
Kerris rose from his seat on the bed with a bound, and strode towards Julf, looking worried and fierce.
"Not a word! not a word!" he said, between his clenched teeth. "Spare her!"
"Her!" cried Hagar, a light breaking in on her. "Laura Brenton?"
"Yes, Laura Brenton," replied Julf, shaking off the gamekeeper. "Micky has seen her; it was she who gave him the boots."
"I told her to; I told her to!" interrupted Kerris, in despair.
"Nonsense! you wish to screen her, as you have tried to do all along. But you are wrong. Laura Benton is not worth your sacrificing your life, my man. She is the guilty person who killed Sir Leslie. And why? Because he had cast her off, and was about to marry another woman."
Kerris gave a great cry. "It is false--false! She loved me!"
"She loved herself!" retorted Julf, sharply. "Sir Leslie promised to marry her, and because she could not force him to keep that promise she killed him. It was to throw the blame on you that she stole the boots and