point."

"I think so, Mr. Gryce. I was in a state of excitement, of course;
but the woman was a stranger to me, and my feelings were not unduly
agitated."

"Sweetwater, we can let my suggestion go in regard to those ten minutes
I spoke of. The time is narrowed down to one, and in that one, Miss
Clarke was the only person to touch her."

"The only one," echoed the lady, catching perhaps the slight rising
sound of query in his voice.

"I will trouble you no further." So said the old detective,
thoughtfully. "Sweetwater, help me out of this." His eye was dull and
his manner betrayed exhaustion. But vigour returned to him before he
had well reached the door, and he showed some of his old spirit as he
thanked Miss Clarke and turned to take the elevator.

"But one possibility remains," he confided to Sweetwater, as they stood
waiting at the elevator door. "Miss Challoner died from a stab. The next
minute she was in this lady's arms. No weapon protruded from the wound,
nor was any found on or near her in the mezzanine. What follows? She
struck the blow herself, and the strength of purpose which led her to do
this, gave her the additional force to pull the weapon out and fling it
from her. It did not fall upon the floor around her; therefore, it flew
through one of those openings into the lobby, and there it either will
be, or has been found."

It was this statement, otherwise worded, which gave me my triumph over
George.

V. THE RED CLOAK

"What results? Speak up, Sweetwater."

"None. Every man, woman and boy connected with the hotel has been
questioned; many of them routed out of their beds for the purpose, but
not one of them picked up anything from the floor of the lobby, or knows
of any one who did."

"There now remain the guests."

"And after them--(pardon me, Mr. Gryce) the general public which rushed
in rather promiscuously last night."

"I know it; it's a task, but it must be carried through. Put up
bulletins, publish your wants in the papers;--do anything, only gain
your end."

A bulletin was put up.

Some hours later, Sweetwater re-entered the room, and, approaching Mr.
Gryce with a smile, blurted out:

"The bulletin is a great go. I think--of course, I cannot be sure--that
it's going to do the business. I've watched every one who stopped to
read it. Many showed interest and many, emotion; she seems to have had a
troop of friends. But embarrassment! only one showed that. I thought you
w