to be acting very suspiciously."

"What was he doing?" inquired the Inspector, with a look at Sergeant
McQuade.

"Apparently he was searching the room for something--I could not, of
course, tell what. I left my room and came upon him suddenly, whereupon
he pretended to be busily engaged in setting the room to rights. I had
noticed, immediately upon entering the room, a strong odor of perfume, a
queer, Oriental perfume that at once attracted my attention, because--"
I hesitated.

"Because of what?" asked the Inspector shortly.

"Because it was the same as that upon the handkerchief which Miss Temple
had left in the room upon her visit there the night before, and which
was found there by Sergeant McQuade the next day."

"What importance did you attach to that fact?"

"I do not know--I cannot say. There seems no explanation of the matter.
But, at the time of which I speak, it struck me as being peculiar--I
looked about and found that the perfume came from a cake of soap upon
the washstand, near which I stood. It had evidently been left there by
Mr. Ashton, and, being so natural and usual an object, must have been
overlooked by the police when the room was searched."

"Why did you remove it?"

"Because I wished a means of identifying the perfume. I felt then, and
still feel, that there was some intimate and unusual reason for the
presence of that perfume upon Miss Temple's handkerchief."

"Mr. Morgan, why, since you were pretending to assist Sergeant McQuade
by every means in your power to secure the missing jewel, and apprehend
Mr. Ashton's murderer, did you fail to disclose to him the facts that
you have just related?" The Inspector's manner was increasingly
uncompromising. "Did you have any reason to suspect that the jewel was
hidden in the cake of soap?"

"None whatever. I did not mention the matter to the Sergeant because it
seemed too vague and unimportant--it indicated nothing."

The Inspector frowned. "Of that you were perhaps not the best judge. You
committed a grave error. I dislike to imply that it might have been
anything worse." He glanced at a notebook he held in his hand. I began
to feel indignant at the tone and manner in which he was conducting his
cross-questioning.

"Is it not true, Mr. Morgan," he asked suddenly, "that Miss Temple was
violently opposed to any marriage with Mr. Ashton, and that either his
death, or the abstracting of the jewel which was to have been the price
paid by him