?" Harding looked up, startled. "Why didn't you inform me of that?"

"Well, I thought we'd better hear from Mr. Clymer the true state of
Rochester's finances," responded Taylor. "I never anticipated such facts
as he has given us."

"But if you knew the police were after Rochester--" objected Harding.

Clymer broke into the conversation; there was a heavy frown on his
usually placid countenance. "I judged from Detective Ferguson's
confidences to us, Kent, at the Club de Vingt that he was wanted by the
police in connection with the Turnbull tragedy, but the facts brought
out through Harding's action to attach Rochester's bank account, puts a
different construction on Rochester's disappearance."

"What had Rochester to do with Jimmie Turnbull?" questioned Harding,
before Kent could answer Clymer.

"They lived together," he replied shortly.

"And one dies and the other disappears," Harding whistled dolefully.
"Wasn't Mr. Turnbull an official of this bank, Mr. Clymer?"

"Yes, our cashier."

"Were his affairs involved?"

"Not in the least," Clymer spoke with emphasis. "A most honorable
fellow, Jimmie Turnbull; his murder was a shocking affair."

"Have the police found any motive for the crime, Kent?" asked Taylor.

"I believe not."

Harding, who had been ruminating in silence, leaned forward, his
expression alight with a sudden idea.

"Could it be that Turnbull found out that Rochester was passing forged
checks, and Rochester insured his silence by Poisoning him?" he asked.

Clymer and Kent exchanged glances, as Kent's thoughts reverted to the
forged letter presented by Turnbull to the bank's treasurer, whereby he
had been given McIntyre's valuable negotiable securities. Could it
be that Rochester had written the letter, given it to his room-mate,
Turnbull, and the latter, thinking it genuine, had secured the McIntyre
securities and handed them over to Rochester? The idea took Kent's
breath away; and yet, the more he contemplated it, the more feasible it
appeared.

"What's the date on those checks?" demanded Kent.

"Tuesday of this week--the day Jimmie Turnbull died." Clymer turned them
over. "They are drawn payable to cash, and bear no endorsement, which
shows Rochester must have presented them himself."

Harding and Taylor glanced significantly at each other, but neither
spoke. Suddenly Kent pushed back his chair and rose without ceremony.

"Don't go, Kent." Clymer took up some papers. "There's a matter