organized companies to manufacture his patents. He also speculated in real estate and in mortgages. He owned two buildings in this city and several in the country."

"Who are the other members of the family?"

"Margaret's married sister, Mrs. Andrew Wetherby, of Sanhope, and Mrs.
Langmore's two sons, Tom and Dick Ostrello."

"Where are these people located?"

"Mrs. Wetherby is traveling with her husband in South America. The
Ostrello brothers are commercial travelers and somewhere on the road."

"Then the Ostrellos are not rich?"

"No, they are poor, and Mrs. Ostrello was poor, too, before she married
Mr. Langmore."

There was another pause.

"Can you tell me anything else?" asked Adam Adams.

"Nothing of much importance. It's a deep mystery, isn't it?"

"Yes, it's very simplicity makes it deep." The detective drew a long breath. "I was thinking of taking a vacation. My doctor says I need it."

"Oh!" There was a world of disappointment in the word. "Don't say that! You must take hold of this. I planned it all out as I came to town. I know you can clear Margaret if you will only try. Think of her position—the disgrace—my position— Oh, you can't refuse me, Mr. Adams!" The young man came closer and caught the detective by the shoulder. "If it's money, set your price."

"If I take hold, I'll charge you only what is fair, Mr. Case. But I never take a case, unless—"

"Any request you have to make is already granted."

"Unless I can first interview the person who stands accused of the crime."

"You can see Miss Langmore at any time. I told her that I was coming to town to interview you, and that I would bring you back with me, if you would come. I told her what a wonderful man you were and what you had done for others. I think it cheered her a little, although she was terribly cast down."

"You must not promise too much on my account, young man. I am no wizard, and I cannot perform the impossible, much as I might wish to do so."

"But you will come?"

"Yes, I will come."

"At once?" cried Raymond Case impatiently.

"At once."

CHAPTER III

MARGARET LANGMORE

As Raymond Case had said, the Langmore mansion was a large one, setting in the midst of an extensive lawn, sprinkled here and there with maples and oaks and fine flowering bushes. The hedge in front was well kept and the side fences were also in good repair. In the rear was a stable and also an automobile shed, for the late master of this estate had been fond of a dash in his runabout when time permitted. Down by the brook, back of the stable, was a tiny wharf, where a boat was tied up, a craft which Margaret Langmore had occasionally taken down to the river for a row.

The mansion now looked dark and lonesome, although many folks passed on the highway and whispered to each other that there was the spot where the gruesome tragedy had been committed. "And to think that the man's own daughter did it," they would generally add. "Beats all how bloodthirsty some folks can get. He must have cut her short on money or something and she was too high-strung to stand it."

"No, it ain't that," another would answer. "She's been flirting around with a certain young man, a Wall Street gambler, and her mother wouldn't have it and told her so. That's the real trouble, my way of thinking."

Inside of the house all was as quiet as a tomb save for the ticking of the long clock in the lower hall. Below, a single policeman was on guard, in company with a woman, who had been sent in to help: Upstairs another woman was stationed, to see that Margaret Langmore might not take it upon herself to leave for parts unknown.

Margaret sat in her own room, in the wing on the second floor, a dainty apartment, trimmed in blue and containing all her girlish treasures. On the walls were numerous photographs of her old schoolmates and the flag of the seminary she had attended. And on the mantel rested the picture of Raymond Case, the high polish of the surface marred in one spot where a tear had fallen upon it.

The girl was tall and slender, with a wealth of light-brown hair and eyes of deepest blue. It was more than a pretty face, for it had a certain sadness that was touching.

For several minutes the girl had not moved. Now, as the door opened and the woman who was on guard upstairs came in, she gave a long sigh.

"Can I do anything?" asked the woman, in a voice that was not unkindly.

"Nothing, thank you, Mrs. Morse."

"Would you like a cup of tea, or a bit of toast? Mrs. Jessup can make it easy enough—she has nothing at all to do."

"I do not care to touch a thing."

The answer came in a dreary monotone. The girl's trials were beginning to tell upon her. At first she had tried to bear up bravely, and the words Raymond had spoken had comforted her, but now he was gone and the whole world looked dark once more.

"Has anybody called?" she asked at length.

"Nobody to see you."

"Nobody?" Margaret began to pace the floor. "When did the coroner say the examination was to be continued?" she went on.

"To-morrow morning at eleven o'clock."

"And who is to be put on the stand?"

At this question the woman in charge began to fidget. "Excuse me, miss, but I was ordered not to answer questions. I'm sorry, and I wish you wouldn't worry so much. If I can do anything else—"

"You can do nothing."

At that moment came the sounds of carriage wheels and a cab from the depot drew up to the door. Margaret looked through the slats of a blind and saw that the arrivals were Raymond Case and a stranger, a man wearing a rather ordinary suit of clothing and a rough slouch hat.

"Thank Heaven, Raymond has brought somebody!" murmured the girl.

There was a short consultation at the front door and she heard the young man say: "He has a perfect right here and I demand admittance for us both." Then another murmur followed and the pair came upstairs. They knocked on the door of Margaret's room and were admitted, and Mrs. Morse was told that she might go.

"This gentleman has come to give Miss Langmore some advice," said
Raymond Case. "If we want you we will call."

"But I have orders—"

"Miss Langmore will remain in this room, so you have nothing to fear.
She has a legal right to receive advice."

"Oh, if the gentleman is a lawyer I have nothing to say," was the retort, and Mrs. Morse swept from the room.

The instant she was gone, the young man closed the door and then rushed up to Margaret Langmore and kissed her.

"I have succeeded!" he cried. "I told you I would. This is Mr. Adam Adams. Mr. Adams, this is Miss Margaret Langmore. Now, I guess we are going to show these country bumpkins a thing or two!" he added earnestly.

The detective advanced and shook hands. Margaret Langmore was a trifle disappointed in his appearance and her face clouded for an instant. Raymond was quick to notice it.

"You mustn't judge a man by his appearance. Mr. Adams makes himself look that way on purpose. He's the smartest, swiftest—"

"That will do," interrupted the detective