Jordan gained rapidly in strength, and was soon in condition to return, a sadder, wiser, and poorer man, to Eden Valley. I determined, however, to accompany him, and see if I could gather on the ground any further details about the serpent, my inquiries by mail bringing, as I have told, but unsatisfactory answers. But before leaving Saintsbury, I called again upon my client in the jail. I found him, as always, the gentle, nice-mannered, puzzling youth.

"I am going away for a while in your interests," I said, by way of greeting.

"That\'s awfully good of you," he said gratefully. Then with polite concern he added, "I hope you aren\'t giving yourself any trouble--"

"Oh, I sha\'n\'t mind a little inconvenience when it is in the way of business," I said drily. "It may be a matter of entire indifference to you, but I want to win my case!"

"Oh, yes, of course," he said with anxious courtesy. I could see that he had no idea what I meant! There was no use trying to arouse him in that way, and I might as well accept his attitude.

"Did you know that Barker had a partner?" I asked abruptly.

He shook his head with an air of distaste. "No. I know nothing about him. I shouldn\'t, you know."

"You never heard of Diavolo?"

"Not the opera?" he asked doubtfully.

"No. A professional hypnotist with whom Barker was connected in a business way."

"No, I never heard of him."

"Did you ever hear of William Jordan? Or of Eden Valley?"

"No." He looked puzzled.

"I have an idea that it may have been Diavolo who shot Barker!" I said carelessly.

He looked surprised, and then, deferentially and hesitatingly, he expressed his dissent.

"I suppose you feel that you have to fight for me, as my lawyer, but--what\'s the use in this case? I don\'t understand these things, of course, but I\'d rather have it settled with as little fuss as possible. I shot him, and I am not sorry, and--I\'d like to have it all over with as soon as possible." His voice was steady enough, and the gallant lift of his head made me think of his sister, but I thought I saw a look of dread somewhere back in his eye. Perhaps he was beginning to weaken! I determined to press the point a little.

"And yet it is a pity to have your life run into the sand in that way," I said earnestly. "There might be much for you in the future,--success, love, honor,--" I watched him closely. His face quivered under the probe, but he did not speak.

"Miss Thurston is heartbroken," I added, relentlessly.

He looked at me as a dumb animal under the knife might look, and then he dropped his face into his hands. I pressed the matter while he was at my mercy.

"If you did not shoot Barker,--if you are in fact innocent,--don\'t, for Heaven\'s sake, let any foolish idea of saving someone else lead you to lie about it. There could be no one worthy of saving at that cost. And, besides, if you are lying, I am going to find out the truth in spite of you."

He lifted his head, but he did not look at me.

"I am not lying. Why should I? I supposed anyone would believe a man who said he had done--a thing like that."

"I wish you would tell me about it again,--just what you did." (I wanted to see if his story would vary.)

He dropped his eyes to the floor thoughtfully. "I went to his office," he said slowly. "I went through the outer office and into the inner office. They were both empty. I locked the door and waited. I watched through a hole in the curtain over the glass in the door. A man came in, waited a little, and went out. Then Barker came. I waited till he came close to the door. Then I fired. I saw him fall. Then I went down the fire-escape and got out into the street." As he finished, he raised his eyes from the floor and looked at me. His glance was not entirely frank, and yet I could not call it evasive.

"There was no one else in the room with you?"

"No one."

"You saw no one else at any time except the man who came into the outer office?"

"No one else."

"And him you do not know?"

"No."

"If I should tell you it was I?"

He looked at me, puzzled and doubtful. "Was it you?"

"Wouldn\'t you know? Didn\'t you see the man\'s face?"

He hesitated. "N-no."

"Then how did you know it wasn\'t Barker?"

"Why,--it wasn\'t."

"Since you meant to give yourself up to the police, why did you go down the fire-escape instead of out through the hall?"

He looked distressed. "I--don\'t know." Then he seemed to gather his ideas together. "My mind is confused about much that happened that night, Mr. Hilton. The only thing that stands out very clearly is the fact that I shot him. And that is the only thing that is really important, isn\'t it?"

And that was the most that I got out of the interview.

I had to admit, in face of this, that it was partly obstinacy which made me hold to the idea that he was not telling the whole truth. The fact that he had not recognized me, though he must have had me under close observation for a long time, and the fact that some one in the inner room had been eating apples, and that some one not he,--this was really all I had to support my point of view. But these were facts, both of them, and a fact is a very obstinate thing. A very small fact is enough to overthrow a whole battalion of fair-seeming fabrications. I felt that I was not throwing in my fortune with the weaker side when I determined to follow the lead of those two small facts to the bitter end.

The pursuit led me in the first place to Eden Valley. I took poor William Jordan to his home, a farm lying just outside of the village, (and not more than two hundred miles from Saintsbury,) and then I returned to the village. It was a country town of about 2000, with one main hotel. I judged that Diavolo and Barker would have to lodge there if anywhere, and on inquiry I found my guess correct. They were not forgotten.

"Oh, that hypnotist chap!" said the landlord. "Yes, he was here in the summer. Had a show at the Masonic Hall. Say, that\'s a great stunt, isn\'t it? Ever see him?"

"No. What was he like?"

"Oh, he was made up, you know,--Mephistopheles style. Black pointed beard and long black hair and a queer glittering eye."

"But when he was not made up? You saw him here in the hotel in his natural guise, didn\'t you?"

"Nope. Funny thing, that. He kept in his room, and the man that was with him, Barker I think his name was, he did the talking and managed everything. Diavolo acted as though he didn\'t want to be seen off the stage. Wore a long cape and a slouch hat when he went out, and had his meals all sent up."

"Was he tall or short?"

"Medium. Rather slim. Long, thin hands. Say, when he waved those hands before the face of that old farmer sitting on a chair on the stage, it was enough to make the shivers run down your back. I don\'t know whether it was all a fake or not. Most people here think it was, but I swan, it was creepy."

"Did you know the farmer?"

"Oh, yes,--old Jordan. Lives near here. Terrible set up about having a strong will, and said nobody could hypnotize him. Say, it was funny to see him think he was a cat, chasing a rat, and then suddenly believe that he was an old maid and scared to death of a mouse, and jumping up on a chair and screaming in a squeaky little voice."

"Diavolo woke him up, didn\'t he?"

"Oh, yes. And then the old man tore things around. He came here the next day to see the man in the daylight, and dare him to try it again."

"Did he do it?" I asked, wondering how much of Jo............