"You a.s.sume more than one person, then?"

"I think so, yes, I may say I think so. But that's of little moment. If we can run down the clues we have, if we can follow their pointing fingers, we shall know the criminal, and learn whether or not he had accomplices in his vile work."

"Quite so," and with a smile and a nod, the stranger drifted away.

Another man came near, then, and frankly introduced himself as Joe Young, from a nearby town, saying he wanted to be allowed to examine the wall-safe said to have been rifled by the murderer.

"My father built that safe," he explained his interest, "and I think it might lead to some further enlightenment."

Detective Hughes accompanied Young to the closed room that had been Mrs.

Pell's sanctum, and they entered alone.

"Don't touch things," cautioned Hughes. "I've not really had a chance yet to go over the place with a fine tooth comb. They've taken the poor lady's body away, but otherwise nothing's been touched----"

"Oh, I won't touch anything," agreed Young, "but I couldn't help a sort of a notion that my father might have built more than a safe--he was a skilful carpenter and joiner, and Mrs. Pell was a tricky woman. I mean by that, she was mighty fond of tricking people and she easily could have had a secret cupboard, or even an entrance from somewhere behind that safe."

But no amount of searching could discover the slightest possibility of such a thing. The open safe was an ordinary, built-in-the-wall affair, not large enough to suggest an entrance for a person. Nor was there any secret compartment behind it or anything other than showed on the surface. The door, when closed, had been covered by a picture, which had been taken down and flung on the floor. The safe was absolutely empty, and no one knew what it had contained.

Young was decidedly disappointed. "I had no personal motive in looking this thing up," he said, "I only hoped that my knowledge of my father's clever work might lead to some discovery that would prove helpful to you detectives or to the family. But it's plain to be seen there's no hocus-pocus about this thing. It's as simple a safe as I ever saw.

Nothing, in fact, but a concealed cupboard with a combination lock.

Wonder who opened it? The murderer?"

"I don't think so," rejoined Hughes. "I think the intruder, whoever he was, compelled the old lady to open it for him."

"You stick to the masculine gender, I see, in your a.s.sumptions."

"I do. I don't think for a minute that Miss Clyde is involved."

"But her room is just above this----"

"Oh, that's what you're after! A secret connection between this room and Miss Clyde's by way of the safe!"

"Yes, that's what I had in mind. But there's not the slightest possibility of it, is there?"

"No, not any other secret pa.s.sage of any sort or kind. Oh, I've investigated fully in that respect. I meant, I haven't searched for tiny clues and little sc.r.a.ps of evidence. Straws, in fact, do show which way the wind blows."

"Well, I don't suppose I can be of any help, but if I can, call on me. I live in East Fallville, only twelve miles away, and I'd like nothing better than to dig into this mystery, if I'm wanted."

"Thank you, Mr. Young, I appreciate your helpful spirit, and I'll call on you if it's available. But I don't mind owning up that we have more people to look into this matter than directions in which to look. As you may imagine, it's a baffling thing to get hold of. I confess I hardly know which way to turn."

As the two men returned to the living room, Hughes overheard some angry words between Bannard and Roger Downing, one of the dwellers in the village.

"But I saw you," Downing was saying.

"You think you did," returned Bannard, "but you're mistaken."

"When?" asked Hughes, suddenly and sharply, of Downing.

"Sunday about noon. Win Bannard was skulking around in the woods just back of this house----"

"Skulking! Take back that word!" cried Bannard.

"Well, you were sauntering around, then, dawdling around, whatever you want it called, but you were there!"

"I was not," declared Bannard.

"And I saw your little motor car waiting for you a bit farther along the road----"

"You did!" and Bannard laughed shortly, "well, as it happens I don't own a motor car!"

"Nonsense, Roger," said Hughes, "Win Bannard wasn't up here Sunday noon--where would he have been concealed until three o'clock----"

"In his aunt's room----"

"Take that back!" shouted Bannard, "do you know what you're saying?"

"Hush up, both of you," cautioned Hughes. "For Heaven's sake don't get up a scene over nothing! But, if you saw a small motor car along the road near here, I want to know about it. What time was this, Downing?"

"'Long about noon, I tell you," was the sulky reply. "It might have been a few minutes before. There was no one in the car; it was drawn up by the side of the road, not more'n two hundred yards from the house."

"And you thought you saw Mr. Bannard. Of course, it was someone else, but it's important to know about this. I can't help thinking whoever committed that murder was hidden in the room for some time beforehand----"

"And how did he get away?" asked Bannard.

"If you ask me that once more, I'll pound you! I don't _know_ how he got away. But he did get away, and we'll find out how, when we find our man.

That's my theory of procedure, if you want to know; let the mystery of the locked room wait, and devote all possible effort to finding the murderer. Then the rest will unravel itself."

"Easier said than done," sneered Downing, "if you're going to discard all evidence or statements that anyone makes to you!"

"If you were so sure you saw Mr. Bannard on Sunday morning, why didn't you so state at the inquest?"

"I wasn't asked, and besides 'twas about noon, and old Timken only asked about the afternoon----"

"And besides," broke in Bannard, "you weren't sure you did see me, and you weren't sure you saw anybody, and you made up this whole yarn, anyhow!"

"Nothing of the sort, and you'll find out, Win Bannard, when I tell all I know----"

"Quit it now," ordered Hughes; "if you've anything to tell of real importance, Roger, tell it to me when we're alone. Don't sing out your information all over the place."

"You're going straight ahead with your investigations, then?" Bannard asked of the detective.

"Yes, but we can't do much till after the funeral, and----"

"And what?"

"And after the reading of the will. You know motive is a strong factor in unraveling a murder case. Why, s'pose some of the servants receive large legacies; and you know how queer Mrs. Pell was--she might well leave a fortune to those Purdys."

"Oh, they didn't do it," and Bannard tossed off the idea as absurd.