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With six minutes left it only remained, as it seemed, for Yates to hold the plunging crimson once more at the last ditch to keep the game a tie, and so win what would, under the circumstances, have been as good as a victory. Down came the Harwell line once more to the twenty yards, but here they stopped.
The clenched hand pausing irresolute, then making up its mind to go through with the lie firmly, was enough for me. "Mr. Harwell, this is undoubtedly true according to your judgment," said the coroner; "but Mr. Leavenworth's correspondence will have to be searched for all that." "Of course," he replied carelessly; "that is only right." This remark ended Mr. Harwell's examination for the time.
"Wait!" he cried; and holding back the secretary with one hand where was his rheumatism now! he put the other in his pocket and drew thence a document which he held up before Mr. Clavering. "It has not gone yet," said he; "be easy. And you," he went on, turning towards Trueman Harwell, "be quiet, or " His sentence was cut short by the man springing from his grasp. "Let me go!" he shrieked.
Only the Yates full-back threatened, the ball was safely clutched in his right arm, his breath came easily, his legs were strong, and the goal-posts loomed far down the field and beckoned him on. This, he thought exultingly, was the best moment that life could give him. Behind, although he could not hear it for the din of shouting from the Harwell stand, he knew the pursuit to be in full cry.
With a look whose evil triumph I cannot describe, he put his hand into the arm of the waiting detective, and in another moment would have been led from the room; when Mary, crushing down the swell of emotions that was seething in her breast, lifted her head and said: "No, Trueman Harwell; I cannot give you even that thought for your comfort. Wealth so laden would bring nothing but torture.
Harwell in the library, and extending my tete-a-tete visits with Mary in the reception room, till the imperturbable secretary was forced to complain that he was often left for hours without work. But, as I say, days passed, and a second Monday evening came round without seeing me any further advanced upon the problem I had set myself to solve than when I first started upon it two weeks before.
"Nothing can make me forget that in my presence you have denounced Henry Clavering as the murderer of Mr. Leavenworth. You had better explain yourself, Mr. Harwell." He gave me a short look, but moved around and took the chair. "You have me at a disadvantage," he said, in a lighter tone.
Back to her line-bucking returned Yates, and slowly, but very surely, the contest moved over the lost ground, back toward the Harwell goal. The fifty-five-yard line was passed again, the fifty, the forty-five, and here or there holes were being torn in the Harwell line, and the crimson was going down before the blue.
"Upon retiring." "Was that before or after the servants went up?" "After." "Did you hear Mr. Harwell when he left the library and ascended to his room?" "I did, sir." "How much longer did you leave your door open after that?" "I I a few minutes a I cannot say," she added, hurriedly. "Cannot say? Why? Do you forget?" "I forget just how long after Mr. Harwell came up I closed it."
It was a long list, containing the names, ages, heights, and weights of thirty-six players and substitutes, and was immediately the center of interest to all. "Thunder!" growled Joel ruefully, as he finished reading the list over Blair's shoulder, "it's a thumpin' long ways down to me!" "Harwell, Harwell, Harwell! Rah-rah-rah, Rah-rah-rah, Rah-rah-rah, Harwell!"
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