Coroner, or the police--" he bit his tongue as the last
words escaped him. Shirley put his hand on Van Cleft's shoulder, with an
inspiring firmness.

"Tell me how I can help. You've had a big shock. Confide in me, and I
pledge you my word, I'll keep it safer than any one you could go to."

Van Cleft groped as a drowning man, at this opportunity. He caught
Shirley's hand and wrung it tensely.

"Sit down. The doctor is still upstairs with mother and sister. When the
Coroner comes, I would like to have you be here as a witness. It's an
ordeal--I'll tell you everything."

Shirley listened attentively, without betraying his own knowledge.
Soothing in manner, he questioned the son about any possible enemy of
the murdered man.

"There's not one I know. Dad is popular--he's been too gay, lately,
but just foolish like a lot of rich men. He wouldn't harm any one. He
inherited his money, you know. Didn't have to crush the working people.
Like me, he's been endeavoring to spend it ever since he was born, but
it comes in too fast from our estates."

He looked up apprehensively, at the sympathetic face of his companion.

"It's very unwise to tell this. I suppose it's a State's prison offence
to deceive about murder. But you understand our position: we can't
afford to let it become gossip. I'll pay this girl anything to go to
Europe or the Antipodes!"

"I wouldn't do that," suggested Shirley, thoughtfully. "Let her stay.
You would like to bring the culprit to justice, if it can be done
without dragging your name into it. If he has planned this, he has
executed other schemes. She certainly would not remain the machine if
she were the guilty one. Why not employ a good detective?"

"I did, but hesitated to tell you. I secured Captain Cronin, of the
Holland Agency. He's managed everything so far--I was too rattled
myself. But, I wonder why he isn't here now? He was to return as soon as
he visited the garage."

As Van Cleft spoke, the butler approached with hesitation.

"Beg pardon, sir. But you are wanted on the telephone, sir."

"All right, Hoskins. Connect it with the library instrument."

Van Cleft lifted the receiver nervously, and answered in an unsteady
voice.

"Yes--This is Van Cleft's residence."

Silence for a bit, then the wire was busy.

"What's that? Captain Cronin? What about him? Let me speak to him."

Shirley was alert as a cat. Van Cleft was too dazed to understand his
sudden move, as the criminologist