put it down, and
it had been exchanged for one just like it, but I did not let it out of
my hand on that journey until I put it down on the porch at the Bellwood
house, while I tried to get in. I live at Bellwood, with the Misses
Maitland, sisters of Mr. Fleming's deceased wife. I don't pretend to
know how it happened, but while I was trying to get into the house it
was rifled. Mr. Knox will bear me out in that. I found my grip empty."

I affirmed it in a word. The chief was growing interested.

"What was in the bag?" he asked.

Wardrop tried to remember.

"A pair of pajamas," he said, "two military brushes and a clothes-brush,
two or three soft-bosomed shirts, perhaps a half-dozen collars, and a
suit of underwear."

"And all this was taken, as well as the money?"

"The bag was left empty, except for my railroad schedule."

The chief and Hunter exchanged significant glances. Then--

"Go on, if you please," the detective said cheerfully.

I think Wardrop realized the absurdity of trying to make any one believe
that part of the story. He shut his lips and threw up his head as if he
intended to say nothing further.

"Go on," I urged. If he could clear himself he must. I could not go back
to Margery Fleming and tell her that her father had been murdered and
her lover was accused of the crime.

"The bag was empty," he repeated. "I had not been five minutes trying to
open the shutters, and yet the bag had been rifled. Mr. Knox here found
it among the flowers below the veranda, empty."

The chief eyed me with awakened interest.

"You also live at Bellwood, Mr. Knox?"

"No, I am attorney to Miss Letitia Maitland, and was there one night as
her guest. I found the bag as Mr. Wardrop described, empty."

The chief turned back to Wardrop.

"How much money was there in it when you--left it?"

"A hundred thousand dollars. I was afraid to tell Mr. Fleming, but I had
to do it. We had a stormy scene, this morning. I think he thought the
natural thing--that I had taken it."

"He struck you, I believe, and knocked you down?" asked Hunter smoothly.

Wardrop flushed.

"He was not himself; and, well, it meant a great deal to him. And he was
out of cocaine; I left him raging, and when I went home I learned that
Miss Jane Maitland had disappeared, been abducted, at the time my
satchel had been emptied! It's no wonder I question my sanity."

"And then--to-night?" the chief persisted.

"To-night, I felt that some one w