6. THREE O’CLOCK IN THE MORNING
A tense silence followed in that big bright room, broken at last by the collapse of a burning log, which fell into a hundred pieces, sending sparks and embers in all directions. Sing moved forward to attend to it, and at that moment young Hugh Beaton faced Doctor Swan. He was livid with rage; an utterly unexpected transformation seemed to have taken place in the boy.
“You contemptible lair!” he cried hoarsely.
“Just a minute,” Swan replied coolly. “It so happens I am telling the truth. Am I not, Miss Beaton?”
The girl’s eyes were on the handkerchief which she twisted nervously in her hands. “You are,” she said softly.
“So sorry,” Charlie began. “But, Miss Beaton, it now becomes necessary for us to know—”
“Yeah—I suppose it does,” said the sheriff. “But
