He turned his poor, befuddled head to one side, then to the other.

His eyes shot mute appeals for help, but no answering gleam of compassion came from the others.

They regarded him with cold, stolid faces, expressionless as death masks.
"Why can't you leave me alone ?" pleaded Collins.

"I didn't kill Whitmore." The denial was uttered in the tone of a fervent plea, but it made no visible impression on the detective.
"If you didn't do it, why don't you establish your innocence ?" Britz pursued relentlessly.
"You haven't proved me guilty!" Collins fired back.

Evidently something which Luckstone had told him flashed across his mind, for he seemed to come out of his bewildered state, and again he adopted an air of resolute opposition.