tempted to use the pressure of his office to force her into a more amenable frame of mind. But Markham shrank instinctively from the bludgeoning, threatening methods of the ordinary Public Prosecutor, especially in his dealings with women. In the present case, however, had it not been for Vance's strictures at the Club, he would no doubt have taken a more aggressive stand. But it was evident he was laboring under a burden of uncertainty superinduced by Vance's words and augmented by the evasive deportment of the woman herself.
After a moment's silence he asked grimly:
"You did considerable speculating through the firm of Benson and Benson, did you not?"
A faint ring of musical laughter greeted this question.
"I see that the dear Major has been telling tales. . . . Yes, I've been gambling most extravagantly. And I had no business to do it. I'm afraid I'm avaricious."
"And is it not true that you've lost heavily of late—that, in fact, Mr. Alvin Benson called upon you for additional margin and finally sold out your securities?"
"I wish to Heaven it were not true," she lamented, with a look of simulated tragedy. Then: "Am I supposed to have done away with Mr. Benson out of sordid revenge, or as an act of just retribution?" She smiled archly and waited expectantly, as if her question had been part of a guessing game.
Markham's eyes hardened as he coldly enunciated his next words.
"Is it not a fact that Captain Philip Leacock
