She was dressed with
fastidious taste, and as she mounted the platform after the morgue
master had administered the oath, Coroner Penfield rose and, with a
polite gesture, indicated the chair she was to occupy.

"I am Helen McIntyre," she announced clearly. "Daughter of Colonel
Charles McIntyre."

"Tell us the circumstances attending the arrest of James Turnbull, alias
John Smith, in your house on Tuesday morning, Miss McIntyre," directed
the coroner, seating himself at his table, on which were writing
materials.

"I was sitting up to let in my sister, who had gone to a dance," she
began, "and fearing I would fall asleep I went down into the library,
intending to sit in one of the window recesses and watch for her
arrival. As I entered the library I saw a figure steal across the room
and disappear inside a closet. I was very frightened, but had sense
enough left to cross softly to the closet and lock the door." She paused
in her rapid recital and drew a long breath, then continued more slowly:

"I hurried to the window and across the street I saw a policeman
standing under a lamp-post. It took but a minute to call him. The
policeman opened the closet door, put handcuffs on Mr. Turnbull and took
him away."

Coroner Penfield, as well as the jurors, followed her statement with
absorbed attention. At its end he threw down his pencil and spoke
briefly to the deputy coroner, who had been busily engaged in taking
notes of the inquest, and then he turned to Helen.

"You heard no sound before entering the library?"

"No one walking about the house?" he persisted.

"No." She followed the negative with a short explanation. "I lay down on
my bed soon after dinner, not feeling very well, and slept through the
early hours of the night."

"At what hour did you wake up?"

"About four o'clock, or a little after."

"Then you were awake an hour before you discovered the supposed burglar
in your library?"

"Y-yes," Helen's hesitation was faint. "About that length of time."

"And you heard no unusual sounds in that hour's interval?"

"I heard nothing"--her manner was slightly defiant and Kent's heart
sank; if he had only thought to warn her not to antagonize the coroner.

"Where were you during that hour?"

"Lying down," promptly. "Then, afraid I would drop off to sleep again, I
went downstairs."

Coroner Penfield consulted his notes before asking another question.

"Who lives in your house beside you and your twin si