Douglas had given him the impression that some danger washanging over his head， and he had always looked upon his suddendeparture from California， and also his renting a house in soquiet a place in England， as being connected with this peril. Heimagined that some secret society， some implacable organization，was on Douglas’s track， which would never rest until it killed him.
Some remarks of his had given him this idea； though he had nevertold him what the society was， nor how he had come to offend it.
He could only suppose that the legend upon the placard had somereference to this secret society.
“How long were you with Douglas in California？” askedInspector MacDonald.
“Five years altogether.”
“He was a bachelor， you say？”
“A widower.”
“Have you ever heard where his first wife came from？”
“No， I remember his saying that she was of German extraction，and I have seen her portrait. She was a very beautiful woman. Shedied of typhoid the year before I met him.”
“You don’t associate his past with any particular part ofAmerica？”
“I have heard him talk of Chicago. He knew that city well andhad worked there. I have heard him talk of the coal and irondistricts. He had travelled a good deal in his time.”
“Was he a politician？ Had this secret society to do with politics？”
“No， he cared nothing about politics.”
“You have no reason to think it was criminal？”
“On the contrary， I never met a straighter man in my life.”
“Was there anything curious about his life in California？”
“He liked best to stay and to work at our claim in themountains. He would never go where other men were if he couldhelp it. That’s why I first thought that someone was after him.
Then when he left so suddenly for Europe I made sure that it wasso. I believe that he had a warning of some sort. Within a week ofhis leaving half a dozen men were inquiring for him.”
“What sort of men？”
“Well， they were a mighty hard-looking crowd. They came up tothe claim and wanted to know where he was. I told them that hewas gone to Europe and that I did not know where to find him.
They meant him no good—it was easy to see that.”
“Were these men Americans—Californians？”
“Well， I don’t know about Californians. They were Americans，all right. But they were not miners. I don’t know what they were，and was very glad to see their backs.”
“That was six years ago？”
“Nearer seven.”
“And then you were together five years in California， so that thisbusiness dates back not less than eleven years at the least？”
“That is so.”
“It must be a very serious feud that would be kept up with suchearnestness for as long as that. It would be no light thing thatwould give rise to it.”
“I think it shadowed his whole life. It was never quite out of hismind.”
“But if a man had a danger hanging over him， and knew what itwas， don’t you think he would turn to the police for protection？”
“Maybe it was some danger that he could not be protectedagainst. There’s one thing you should know. He always went aboutarmed. His revolver was never out of his pocket. But， by bad luck，he was in his dressing gown and had left it in the bedroom lastnight. Once the bridge was up， I guess he thought he was safe.”
“I should like these dates a little clearer，” said MacDonald. “Itis quite six years since Douglas left California. You followed himnext year， did you not？”
“That is so.”
“And he had been married five years. You must have returnedabout the time of his marriage.”
“About a month before. I was his best man.”
“Did you know Mrs. Douglas before her marriage？”
“No， I did not. I had been away from England for ten years.”
“But you have seen a good deal of her since.”
Barker looked sternly at the detective. “I have seen a good dealof him since，” he answered. “If I have seen her， it is because youcannot visit a man without knowing his wife. If you imagine thereis any connection—”
“I imagine nothing， Mr. Barker. I am bound to make everyinquiry which can bear upon the case. But I mean no offense.”
“Some inquiries are offensive，” Barker answered angrily.
“It’s only the facts that we want. It is in your interest andeveryone’s interest that they should be cleared up. Did Mr.
Douglas entirely approve your friendship with his wife？”
Barker grew paler， and his great， strong hands were claspedconvulsively together. “You have no right to ask such questions！” hecried. “What has this to do with the matter you are investigating？”
“I must repeat the question.”
“Well， I refuse to answer.”
“You can refuse to answer； but you must be aware that yourrefusal is in itself an answer， for you would not refuse if you hadnot something to conceal.”
Barker stood for a moment with his face set grimly and hisstrong black eyebrows drawn low in intense thought. Then helooked up with a smile. “Well， I guess you gentlemen are onlydoing your clear duty after all， and I have no right to stand inthe way of it. I’d only ask you not to worry Mrs. Douglas overthis matter； for she has enough upon her just now. I may tell youthat poor Douglas had just one fault in the world， and that washis jealousy. He was fond of me—no man could be fonder of afriend. And he was devoted to his wife. He loved me to comehere， and was forever sending for me. And yet if his wife and Italked together or there seemed any sympathy between us， a kindof wave of jealousy would pass over him， and he would be off thehandle and saying the wildest things in a moment. More than onceI’ve sworn off coming for that reason， and then he would writeme such penitent， imploring letters that I just had to. But you cantake it from me， gentlemen， if it was my last word， that no manever had a more loving， faithful wife—and I can say also no friendcould be more loyal than I！”
It was spoken with fervour and feeling， and yet InspectorMacDonald could not dismiss the subject.
“You are aware，” said he， “that the dead man’s wedding ring hasbeen taken from his finger？”
“So it appears，” said Barker.
“What do you mean by ‘appears’ ？ You know it as a fact.”
The man seemed confused and undecided. “When I said‘appears’ I meant that it was conceivable that he had himself takenoff the ring.”