See--here." He took a sheet of paper from the drawer of his desk.
Clayton reached for it quickly.

"What is it ?" he demanded.
Jimmie Dale drew it back out of reach.
"Just a minute," he said softly.

"You remember, don't you, that in the presence of Carruthers here, of myself, and of half a dozen reporters, you stated that you had been alone with Metzer in his room at three o'clock yesterday, and that it was you--alone--who found the body later on at nine o'clock?
Yes?
I mention this simply to show that from your own lips the evidence is complete that you had an OPPORTUNITY to commit the crime.

Now you may look at this, Clayton." He handed over the sheet of paper.
Clayton took it, stared at it, turning it over from first one side to the other.

Then a sort of relief seemed to come to him and he gulped.
"Nothing but a damned piece of blank paper!" he mumbled.
Jimmie Dale reached over and took back the sheet.
"You're wrong again, Clayton," he said calmly.