to his
task. "This fellow was careful, sure enough."

The big man resumed his story. She interrupted him with a quick little
exclamation when she heard of Charlie Maxon's escape. Her interest
brought a question from the detective.

"Know him, Miss Copley?"

"I've spoken to him once or twice. Casually."

"How did that happen? Where did you meet him?"

"In a grocery store in the town. He came in for something while I was
there. Of course he knew who I was, and he started talking to me about
the strike and how hard it was on the men."

"Um. What sort of a chap is he? Capable of--murder?"

"Good gracious, I don't think so!" Miss Ocky straightened in her chair
and shot a quick glance at the detective. "He's the agitator
type--more bark than bite. I don't believe he'd have the courage to
kill a man. Is--is he suspected?"

"I can't tell you. We may know more about that after the
inquest--unless Norvallis gets it adjourned, which he may. I don't
think he'll want to show his hand so soon."

"This will be a spicy bit of gossip for Janet," mused Miss Ocky half to
herself, then caught Creighton's raised eyebrow and explained her
remark. "Janet Mackay is my maid, and she used to know Maxon in
Scotland when he was a youngster."

"Um. Have they seen anything of each other lately?"

"No. Janet has no use for him. She says he was always getting into
trouble as a boy."

"He doesn't seem to have lost the habit. Is Janet a tall thin woman
who wears steel-rimmed glasses?"

"Yes. You noticed her in the kitchen this morning, didn't you? She
told me you went through that way."

"Has she been with you long?"

"Twenty-five years. She came here as a sort of companion-maid to my
sister and me a few years before my father's death. She was very fond
of Lucy, but she didn't care so much for Simon, so when I went East I
took her with me. We've been together ever since."

"No need to ask, then, if you trust her."

"Trust her! Trust Janet?" Miss Ocky's voice was warm. "I'd trust her
with my life!"

Creighton dropped the subject, but added another fragment to the data
he was compiling. Janet, the nondescript lady, didn't care much for
Varr, and was acquainted with Charlie Maxon. Important? Um--too soon
to say. He concentrated his attention once more on his search.

"Nothing," he finally announced briefly. He rose as he spoke--he had
been on his hands and knees the better to examine the floor in f