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I've never met with such an extraordinary case, and from all appearances the end isn't reached yet. After all," said Mr. Calton, thoughtfully, "truth is stranger than fiction." Here a knock came to the door, and in answer to an invitation to enter, it opened, and Kilsip glided into the room. "You're not engaged, sir?" he said, in his soft, low voice.
"Well, considering the girl found herself," said Calton, dryly, "the money is in the bank, and will remain there." "An' I'm to be done out of my 'ard earned tin, s'elp me?" howled the old fury. "Cuss ye, I'll 'ave the lawr of ye, and get ye put in quod." "You'll go there yourself if you don't take care," said Kilsip, in his soft, purring tones.
"That is the rope that's going to hang you," said Kilsip, quietly, coming behind him, "for the murder of Oliver Whyte." "Trapped by G !" shouted the wretched man, wheeling round, so as to face Kilsip.
"D your friends, sir!" cried Moreland, furiously, rising from his seat. Calton laughed, and introduced Mr. Moreland to the others. "Dr. Chinston, Mr. Kilsip, and Mr. Fitzgerald." "Fitzgerald," gasped Moreland, growing pale. "I I what's that?" he shrieked, as he saw Whyte's coat, all weather-stained, lying on a chair near him, and which he immediately recognised.
Now," went on the lawyer, "I want to find out who the girl that brought the letter is!" "But how?" "God bless my soul, Kilsip! How stupid you are," cried Calton, his irritation getting the better of him. "Can't you understand that paper came from one of the back slums therefore it must have been stolen." A sudden light flashed into Kilsip's eyes.
"I suppose," he said, leaning back in his chair, and watching the wreaths of blue smoke curling from his cigar, "I suppose you know all the ins and the outs of the hansom cab murder?" "I should rather think so," said Kilsip, with a curious light in his queer eyes. "Why, Gorby does nothing but brag about it, and his smartness in catching the supposed murderer!"
It drove up to the entrance of the court, where Calton's office was, and then Moreland, walking as if in a dream, left the room, and got into the cab, followed by Kilsip. "Do you know," said Chinston, thoughtfully, as they stood and watched the cab drive off, "do you know what the end of that man will be?" "It requires no prophet to foretell that," said Calton, dryly. "He will be hanged."
"I'll tell you what," observed Calton, after a few moments of reflection, "I'll go across the way and telephone to Thinton and Tarbit, and when he calls on them they can send him up to me." "A very good idea," said Kilsip, rubbing his hands, "and then I can arrest him." "But the warrant?" interposed Brian, as Calton rose and put on his hat. "Is here," said the detective, producing it.
On the other hand, the evidence of the detective Kilsip went to show that no marks were visible as to anyone having been at the window; and another thing which rendered Miss Marchurst's story doubtful was the resemblance it had to a drama in which she had frequently acted, called 'The Hidden Hand'. In the last act of that drama poison was administered to one of the characters in precisely the same manner, and though of course such a thing might happen in real life, still in this case it was a highly suspicious circumstance that a woman like Miss Marchurst, who had frequently acted in the drama, should see the same thing actually occur off the stage.
There were only two people in Melbourne who still held the contrary opinion, and they were Calton and Kilsip. Both these men had sworn to discover this unknown murderer, who struck his cowardly blow in the dark, and though there seemed no possible chance of success, yet they worked on.
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