"He is Bailey of the Union Bank, the missing cashier." The detective slowly put down his cigar on an ash tray.
"That's the truth, is it ?" he demanded.
Dale's hand flew to her breast.

If Jack would only deny it--even now! But even as she thought this, she realized the uselessness of any such denial.
Bailey realized it, too.
"It's true, all right," he admitted hopelessly.

He closed his eyes for a moment.

Let them come with the handcuffs now and get it over--every moment the scene dragged out was a moment of unnecessary torture for Dale.
But Beresford had not finished with his indictment.

"I accuse him not only of the thing he is wanted for, but of the murder of Richard Fleming!" he said fiercely, glaring at Bailey as if only a youthful horror of making a scene before Dale and Miss Cornelia held him back from striking the latter down where he stood.
Bailey's eyes snapped open.