That was before the whole story of his cruel treatment of his wife became known.  For the papers of her testimony had been sealed, and it was only by a sharp trick on the part of Daley that he got access to them.  Incidentally the vice chancelor was furious when it became known that the documents had been inspected by a reporter, but then it was too late.

The story spread over half the front page of the Times, and it was noted that the evening the paper came out a dinner which was to have been given by the Lawyers’ Club at the Homestead was unexpectedly postponed.

“It wouldn’t do, you know, after that story came out, for me and the vice chancellor who sat in the case, as well as other judges and members of the bar, to be seen there,” Kenneth explained to the colonel.

Slowly and gradually, but none the less surely, a change came over the Homestead.  The gathering of congenial spirits, who knew they would be undisturbed by a roistering element, grew less frequent in the grill and Tudor rooms.  And it was whispered about: 

“Larch is lushing!”

Meanwhile Colonel Ashley was a very busy man, and to no one did he tell very much about his activities.  He saw Darcy frequently at the jail, and to that young man’s pleadings that something be done, always returned the answer: 

“Don’t worry!  It will come out all right!”

“But Amy—­and the disgrace?”

“She doesn’t consider herself disgraced, and you shouldn’t.  The best of police headquarters or prosecutor’s detectives make mistakes.  I’m going to rectify them.  But it will take time.”

“Do you know who killed my cousin?”

“I think I do.”

“Then for the love of—­”

“I can’t tell you yet, Darcy.  All in good time.  I’ve got to be sure of my ground before I make too many moves.  Oh, I know it’s hard for you to stay here, and hard to have the stigma attached to your name.  It’s hard for Miss Mason, too, although she’s bearing up like a major.  Gad, sir, that’s what she’s doing!

“You’ve got a friend in her of whom you may be proud.  And her father, too—­he’s with you from the drop of the flag, he told me.  Quite a racing man he is, a gentleman and a fine judge not only of whisky, which is good in its place, but of horses and men, too.  Darcy, you’ve got good friends!”

“I know it, Colonel, and I count you among the best.”

“Thanks.  Then prove it by not asking me to play my hand before I have all the cards I want.  All in good time.  I’m working several ends, and they all must be fitted together, like the old jigsaw puzzle, before I can act.  Besides, anything I could say now wouldn’t set you free.  You can’t get out before a trial or before I can produce some one on whom I can actually fasten the murder.  And I can’t do that yet.  You aren’t the only suspect, though.  There’s Harry King, still locked up—­”