Cranston sat on the only chair in the room. Stanton went back on the bed.
"You're in a jam."
"You don't say!" Stanton's mouth was grim. "I had figured that out. Even
with my feeble brain."
"It must be pretty feeble for you to have wound up in the mess you're in,"
Cranston agreed.
"How right you are. Sorry. My nerves are gone. I'm completely fouled up."
Cranston said, "We'd better start at the beginning."
"Okay. I forged my dad's name to a check. I've done it before. This time
he said it was the last straw. I didn't really believe him. Not even when he
called the cops. I thought he was bluffing right up to the time a cop came to
the house for me. It was then I went out the window. I had some money left from
the check. I figured I'd get away and let dad cool off."
"That's where I came in," Cranston said. "Your father called me in. He was
afraid he had gone too far. He asked me to keep an eye on your peregrinations.
He wanted me to follow you till you were ready to call it quits and come home
and face the music. I figured you would get tired of being an outlaw."
"Does he really mean to prosecute me?"
"He did. I think, however, that this latest development will change the
picture. I can't see him facing you going to the chair with any degree of
equanimity."
"But I didn't... how can I convince you... I didn't kill that little man!"
"I didn't think you did" Cranston said. "That's the only reason I helped
you get away. With the political scene what it is in this town, plus the fact
that the police are hoping for a pay rise to go through the legislature, you
may be sure that they're going to wind up this case fast!"
"Oh brother!" Stanton sighed. "Everything makes it worse! How can I prove
that I arrived after that man was stabbed?"
"I don't know," Cranston said.
Stanton looked desperate. "I'd be willing, now, to go back to New York and
throw myself on dad's mercy... but if I do that, the police here will... Hey!
Wait!" Stanton's voice was so excited that Cranston had to shush him. "Wait...
the police don't know I was there, do they? They saw me enter the building, but
how can they prove that I was in the room?"
"Very simply. Your fingerprints are on the knife... unless... have you
ever had your fingerprints on record?"
Stanton started to shake his head no, then he said, "This gets more and
more fantastic. Yes, they are on record. The police had a drive one time to
have every law abiding citizen file their prints. Dad insisted that everyone in
the family go down and have it done! Yes, they are on file."
There was a silence. Stanton broke it. "Would it serve any purpose for me
to give myself up to the police?"
"Ordinarily, I would demand you do that before I try to help you. But this
time..." Cranston said, "This time, with the political situation, with the
evidence what it is, I can only recommend that you stay hidden till I can get
my hands on some evidence in your favor!"
There was nothing else to say. The two men sat in silence. Cranston said,
"I have one angle. I almost can't put a name on it, but there's something
nagging at the back of the Cranston cranium."
"How's that?"
