attered in front of them. They looked up
inquisitively as Creighton advanced and laid his card on the pile of
memoranda before the more important gentleman of the pair.

"Ah, yes. Glad to meet you, Mr. Creighton. Very glad, indeed. My
name's Norvallis--County Attorney's office. This is Sheriff Andrews,
of Wayne County. Andrews, this is Mr. Peter Creighton of New York."

"Your name's familiar to me, Mr. Creighton," said Andrews, and
stretched forth a long, bony arm with a calloused hand at the end of
it. He was a mild-eyed individual with a soft, sweeping,
tobacco-stained mustache. "I read the New York papers pretty reg'lar
and I've followed one or two of your cases."

Norvallis was a stout, prosperous-looking man of forty-odd, a typical
product of country politics. His manner was carefully bluff and hearty
and characterized by a sort of _bonhommie_ that was useful in
impressing voters with the fact that he was a pretty good fellow, his
close-set eyes sparkled with intelligence that his low brow defined as
cunning rather than wisdom, and there were puffy semicircles beneath
them that told of parties not entirely political.

"Your friend Krech told us the circumstances under which you were sent
for," broke in Norvallis before Creighton could find some polite
acknowledgment of the Sheriff's interest. "Must have been quite a
shock to you to learn of Mr. Varr's death."

"It certainly was. Fortunately for my peace of mind, I took care
yesterday to warn him against taking undue risks. He disregarded the
advice."

"Oh. You warned him? You had some reason to believe his life was in
danger?"

"Nothing so definite as that, but it was apparent that he had some sort
of a queer, tough customer on his trail and it's always in order to
take reasonable precautions."

"A queer customer, eh? This monk we've been hearing so much about!
What opinion have you formed about that?"

"None at all," replied Creighton promptly.

Norvallis did not quite conceal the disappointment he felt at the flat
negative. He changed the subject.

"I think you have a piece of evidence that should properly be turned
over to me. Didn't Mr. Krech send you an anonymous note that Mr. Varr
received from his enemy?"

"Yes." Creighton took an envelope from his pocket and handed it to
Norvallis. "There it is, in good order. I had it tested for
fingerprints this morning before I left the city."

"Find any?"

"Only those made by Mr. V