"You may dismiss the policeman who is with her."
Our junior looked inquiringly at the district attorney.
"Before I go," he said, "may I ask what you intend doing, sir?"
"I intend finding the writer of that note," answered Singleton,
smiling.
"But, about Miss Holladay?"
Singleton tapped his lips thoughtfully with his pencil.
"Before I answer," he said at last, "I should like to go with you and
ask her one question."
"Very well," assented Mr. Royce instantly, and led the way to the room
where Miss Holladay awaited us.
She rose with flushing face as we entered, and stood looking at us
without speaking; but, despite her admirable composure, I could guess
how she was racked with anxiety.
"Miss Holladay," began my chief, "this is Mr. Singleton, the district
attorney, who wishes to ask you a few questions."
"One question only," corrected Singleton, bowing. "Were you at your
father's office yesterday afternoon, Miss Holladay?"
"No, sir," she answered, instantly and emphatically. "I have not been
near my father's office for more than a week."
I saw him studying her for a moment, then he bowed again.
"That is all," he said. "I don't think the evidence justifies me in
holding her, Mr. Royce," and he left the room. I followed him, for I
knew that I had no further part in our junior's errand.
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