h. Her first idea was that some one
had taken a drop too much and had strayed there and gone to sleep, so
she went up to Bates' room and routed him out. He came down and
discovered the awful truth--and he behaved wonderfully. He seemed to
know just what had to be done, and he actually managed to keep the news
from the family until official permission had been received to bring
the body into the house. Poor Lucy--my sister--was at least spared the
thought of his lying out there."

"Who saw him last--in the house, I mean, of course?"

"Bates, who brought him a decanter of whisky here to the study, wished
him good-night and left him."

"What time was that? Did the butler notice?"

"Yes, because he was interested in getting to bed. It was about
ten-thirty."

"Um. He was left here--alone--with a decanter of whisky and a troubled
mind. It's safe to assume that he took a drink or so. Tell me, was
your brother-in-law an impulsive sort of person--liable to outbursts of
passion--inclined to do things in a headlong, reckless way?"

"A very good description indeed."

"I've been wondering how he happened to be out in the garden so
opportunely for the murderer. If he was sitting in this room, looked
out the window and spotted the fellow hanging around, his first impulse
might have been to rush from the house and tackle him. Does that
impress you as being a likely scenario, Miss Copley?"

"Very. To tell you the truth, when he was really angry I'm inclined to
think he was scarcely responsible for his actions."

"His enemy knew that, you may be sure, and counted on it to his own
advantage. Now, another question about the matter of time. You told
me, Krech, that the hour of the murder had been approximately set at
eleven. Do you know how that was determined?"

"It was the doctor's opinion, for one thing. Then it was pretty
plausibly substantiated by a trick of the weather. There was a shower
at eleven-thirty last night from which the ground was still wet early
this morning. The local Chief of Police covered himself with glory by
noticing that the earth beneath Varr's body was as dry as a bone when
they took him up."

"Good enough. I must have a chat with that lad. I wonder if he
noticed anything else that was useful."

"Somebody did," commented Miss Ocky thoughtfully. "There was a man out
there making a plaster cast of some footprints. Why do you suppose he
was doing that, Mr. Creighton?"

"My golly