"There seemed so much more than that behind his fear," she said. "As I've told you, he gave me a feeling of
superstition. I never once was afraid of a murderer--of a man in the house. I was afraid of something queer
and active, but not human."
Bobby straightened.
"Would you," he asked, "call a man going about in an asphasia quite human? Somnambulists do
unaccountable things--such as overcoming locked doors--"
"Don't, Bobby! Don't!" Katherine cried.
"Sh--h! Quiet!" Graham warned.
A foot scraped on gravel.
"Maybe the detective," Bobby suggested.
He stared at the bend, expecting to see the stiff, plain figure of the detective emerge from the forest. Instead
with a dawning amazement he watched Carlos Paredes stroll into view. The Panamanian was calm and
immaculate. His Van Dyke beard was neatly trimmed and combed. As he advanced he puffed in leisurely
fashion at a cigarette.
Graham flushed.
"After last night he has the nerve--"
"Be decent to him," Bobby urged. "He might help me--might clear up last night."
"I wonder," Graham mused, "to what extent he could clear it up if he wished."
Paredes threw his cigarette away as he came closer. Solemnly he shook hands with Katherine and Bobby,
expressing a profound sympathy. Even then Bobby remarked that those reserved features let slip no positive
emotion. The man turned to Graham.
"Our little difference of last evening," he said suavely, "will, I hope, evaporate in this atmosphere of
unexpected sorrow. If I was in the wrong I deeply regret it. My one wish now is to join you in being of use to
Bobby and Miss Katherine in their bereavement. I saw the account in a paper at luncheon. I came as quickly
as possible."
Graham answered this smooth effrontery with a blunt question.
"Do you know that Bobby is in very real trouble, that he may be implicated in Mr. Blackburn's death?"
Paredes flung up his hands, but Bobby, looking for emotion in the sallow face then, found none. Paredes's
features, it occurred to him, were exactly like a mask.
Bobby checked himself. In his unhealthy way Paredes had been a good friend. The man's voice flowed
smoothly, demanding particulars.
"But this," he said, when they had told him what they could, "changes the situation. I must stay here. I must
watch that detective and learn what he has up his sleeve.