“And you say you didn’t commit the deed?”

“I did not.”

“Then Styles must have done the job, since there was no one else.”

“Didn’t he tell you that he can prove an alibi!  That he was over to Stony Hill at the time the deed was done?”

“Yes, but if that is true, then you are guilty.  You got that poison from Henry Bloom, and he told Tom Ostrello that he let you have it.  There is where you blundered.  Ostrello and others are on your track.  You can’t escape unless you can prove an alibi, too.”

Again John Watkins shrank back as if struck a blow.

“Who—­who told this—­who says—­” he began hoarsely.

“Matlock Styles.”

“Then he can go to perdition!  I’ll not stand up for him a minute longer.  Yes, I got the poison, but I gave it to him.  I can prove it by the old woman who works for him, if I have to wring her neck to make her speak.  She heard me tell him how to use it.  He trusts her, because he has her where the hair is short.  She killed a child years ago, when she ran a baby farm.  And then about that alibi—­” The secret service man laughed bitterly.  “So that’s his game, if it comes to a showing of hands?  Well, I can put a spoke in his wheel.  He was at Stony Hill, was he?  Well, so was I. I can prove that, too.”

There was a pause, during which the secret service man took another drink of liquor.  He was plainly very nervous.  With great deliberation, Adam Adams drew from one pocket a pistol, and from another a pair of handcuffs.

“The scene is ended, Mr. Watkins,” he said coolly.  “I want you to slip on those and come with me.”  And he threw the handcuffs on the table, and leveled the pistol at the fellow’s head.

The man staggered and threw up his hands, half expecting a shot.  He suddenly began to tremble, as if with the ague.

“What do you mean?  Wh—­who are you?” he faltered.

“I am Adam Adams.  I believe we have met before.”

“Adams!” The secret service man sank back in an armchair.  “And you—­you are here to arrest me?”

“Exactly.  As I said before, the whole game is up.  Inside of half an hour you will be safe in prison, and then we shall round up such other members of the gang as are still at large.  Unless you want to make a confession, you will have to stand trial for the murder of Mr. and Mrs. Langmore.”

“Never!  I’ll—­I’ll tell all I know, first!” The man’s lips were white and his eyes full of commingled rage and fear.

“You will make a clean and clear statement?”

“Yes.”

“Clearing up the murder mystery?”

“Yes.”

CHAPTER XXXI

LIGHT AT LAST—­CONCLUSION

As soon as Adam Adams returned to Sidham he communicated with the chief of police, and with several other persons, and also sent two telegrams to New York.  He tried to find Charles Vapp, but could not locate his assistant.