The door opened and the clerk came in.

"Somebody wants you at the 'phone, Mr. Lester," he said; "long distance," and he led the way to the booth.

It was Mr. Royce, and not until that moment did I remember that my absence from the office was unexplained.

"I was a little worried at first," he said, in answer to my question, "but when I saw that special from Elizabeth in the Record this morning, I began to understand, especially when I called up your landlady, and found you'd left the house in a hurry last night after getting a telegram."

"Yes, it was from G.o.dfrey."

"What's up? The clerk down there told me this morning that you'd come in about daybreak looking like you'd been digging a sewer, and that a policeman was guarding you in your room."

"Yes, I was suspected of murder for a while, but I'm not under guard any longer. I'll get back to the office as soon as I can."

"Oh, take your time-I'm getting along fairly well. Of course I've read the papers-there's no connection between this affair and that other one, is there, Lester?"

"G.o.dfrey thinks so," I answered, glancing around to make sure that the door of the booth was securely closed. "He thinks the dead man was Miss L.'s husband, and half believes she killed him."

I could hear Mr. Royce's inarticulate exclamation of disgust and anger.

"But of course that's all moonshine," I added.

"Moonshine! I should say so! Now, Lester, I want you to stay there till you get this thing straightened out, if only for Curtiss's sake. I know you can prove that any such theory as that is all bosh."

"I'll try to," I answered him, and hung up the receiver; but I confess that I was not at all sure of my ability to accomplish the task.

As I left the booth, the clerk came toward me.

"There's a gentleman inquiring for you, Mr. Lester," he said. "He was here about noon asking for you, but wouldn't have you disturbed. He's over here in the parlour, waiting for you."

I followed him to the door of the parlour.

"This is Mr. Lester," he said to a white-haired old man who was pacing nervously up and down, and left us alone together.

For a moment I did not recognise him, then as he came forward into the clearer light, I found myself looking down into the face of Dr. Schuyler.

"My dear Mr. Lester," he said, advancing with outstretched hand, "I hope you will pardon this intrusion."

"It's not in the least an intrusion," I said, honestly glad to see him.

"Thank you. Let us sit down over here by the window, if you will. I do not wish to run any risk of being overheard," and he glanced about anxiously.

As I looked at him more closely, I saw that he was labouring under some deep trouble or anxiety. His face was pale and haggard, and he fingered his gla.s.ses with a nervousness which I knew was not habitual.

"The truth of the matter is," he went on, "that I feel the need of advice-legal advice. I have friends here, of course, to whom I could have gone; but I was told that you were interested in this case, and from what I saw of you the other evening, I felt that I should like to lay my difficulty before you. It is, as I said, a purely legal question, or I should not have felt the need of any earthly counsel."

I thanked him for his confidence and begged him to continue.

"As I understand the law," he went on, "an insane person cannot be punished for a crime."

"No," I said, "except by being confined in an asylum until cured-and even that is largely discretionary."

"And what, in law, is considered insanity-what is the test for it?"

"Inability to distinguish right from wrong is the usual test. No man is excused from responsibility for a crime, if he has the capacity and reason sufficient to enable him to distinguish between right and wrong, as to the particular act he is then doing."

I fancied I heard the clergyman breathe a sigh of relief.

"A person, then, may be sane as regards some things, and insane as regards others?"

"Undoubtedly."

"Would the fact that a person had at one time been confined in an asylum, and had occasional lapses from sanity afterward, tend to prove that he was insane at the time of committing a crime?"

"It would tend to prove it very strongly; especially if the circ.u.mstances under which the crime was committed were related in any way to the cause of the insanity."

He paused a moment in deep thought.

"I cannot go that far," he said slowly, at last. "And yet-and yet-it may be that you've hit upon the clue, Mr. Lester. I must have time to think it over. Will you come to see me this evening?"

"Gladly," I said; "I only hope I can be of service."

"Thank you. I shall look for you between seven and eight. It may be that I shall have something to tell you."

I watched him as he left the room, with a curious mixture of emotions. What was it he would have to tell me? Who was it was insane? Was it--

And suddenly I seemed to catch a glimmer of the truth; I felt that, however slowly and uncertainly, I was at last groping toward the light.

CHAPTER XXI

Cross-Purposes

G.o.dfrey was waiting for me at the desk, and I felt him glance at me keenly as I announced my readiness to accompany him.

"We'll go up to the Kingdon place," he said, "and see if the coroner has made any discoveries. The clerk told me you had a visitor," he added, as we reached the street.

"A client," I answered, with forced jocularity. "A clergyman in need of legal advice."

"I thought I recognised him as he came out. It was Dr. Schuyler, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

He glanced at me again, and then walked on in silence; but I felt the reproach he did not utter.

"He's in trouble of some kind," I explained.

"Connected with this affair?"

"I think so. But I don't want it blazed forth in the Record till I'm sure."