I rode into Kennisburg early in order to hold a conference with Radnor, and get from him the facts in regard to his own and Mose's connection with the ha'nt.
My former passivity in the matter struck me now as almost criminal; perhaps had I insisted in probing it to the bottom, my uncle might have been living still.

I entered Radnor's cell determined not to leave it until I knew the truth.
But I met with an unexpected obstacle.

He refused absolutely to discuss the question.
"Radnor," I cried at last, "are you trying to shield any one?
Do you know who killed your father ?" "I know no more about who killed my father than you do." "Do you know about the ha'nt ?" "Yes," he said desperately, "I do; but it is not connected with either the robbery or the murder and I cannot talk about it." I argued and pleaded but to no effect.

He sat on his cot, his head in his hands staring at the floor, stubbornly refusing to open his lips.

I gave over pleading and stormed.
"It's no use, Arnold," he said finally.