ve was coming--you see?"

"He might have thought it better to--to strike while the striking was
good? Yes, I see." She took her eyes from the road long enough to
give him a quick look. "You think of things very quickly, Mr.
Creighton!"

"Practice makes perfect," he murmured. "Who is Norvallis?"

"Assistant County Attorney, or something like that. Murders are rather
too complicated to be handled by the local police, evidently."

"Yes, the County takes hold usually--sometimes the State, if the County
can't make the grade. You spoke of a doctor--was that the County
Physician? Has the body been moved yet?"

"Yes--thank goodness! I wasn't a great admirer of Simon's, but it
wasn't nice to think of him lying out there in a tomato-patch!
However, I suppose you're disappointed."

"Why? Oh, I see! You're assuming that I might be interested in the
investigation. That doesn't seem likely. I came here on some matter
of burglary--and quite possibly that has ceased to be of importance
now. I must talk to Norvallis, though."

"If you investigate the robbery, you will be investigating the murder,"
said Miss Ocky quietly. "When Simon's notebook was stolen, his desk
was forced open by a Persian dagger, belonging to me, that happened to
be lying handy. That was missing with the notebook--and it was found
again this morning in--in Simon!"

"Golly!" Creighton looked at her with renewed interest. "Not pleasant
for you, that!"

"It seems to link the two crimes, doesn't it?"

"Decidedly. Here we are, I see."

A small crowd of curiosity-seekers was gathered at the gate which gave
access to the driveway from the highroad, and a policeman in uniform
was chatting with them amiably while barring their closer approach. He
saluted as Miss Ocky waved her hand to him and vigorously honked her
way through the staring crowd.

"I'll drop this bag in the hall for the time being," said the detective
as they mounted the piazza steps and entered the house. "Will you put
me deeper in debt to you by finding Mr. Krech for me?"

She said she would, and departed on the errand while he lingered in the
hall. The sight of no less than twelve automobiles of various sizes
and sorts parked in front of the house had prepared him for a mob
inside. A hum of voices reached him from a room on his left, the door
of which was discreetly closed, and another hum came from one on the
right, which he could see was a dining-room. Farther back i