ward the speaker, Krech shot out of his
chair as though a powerful spring had been released beneath him, and
Miss Ocky darted, birdlike, to the side of a slender figure which
swayed in the doorway, gripping the woodwork for support. It was Lucy
Varr.

"Lucy! What are you doing down here?" Miss Ocky circled her sister's
slender waist with a gently compelling arm. "Come with me!"

"I rang and rang and nobody came. I wanted water. I was _so_
thirsty!" She muttered the words feverishly and the brightness of her
big eyes told its own story of a tortured brain. "I heard somebody
talking in here--"

"Come, Lucy! I'll bring you the water."

"Was it you who was asking for my son?" Her gaze passed over Krech,
whom she appeared vaguely to recognize, and fixed itself on the grave,
sympathetic face of the detective. "You're Mr. Creighton, aren't you?
They tell me you have come to find out who killed my husband--"

"Lucy, dear! Please--"

"I--I'm sure I wish you luck!"

"Thank you, Mrs. Varr," said Creighton quietly, choosing to ignore the
irony in her tone. "I'll do my very best, I promise you."

His promise was made to her retreating figure as she finally permitted
her sister to lead her away. Left alone, the two men exchanged a quick
glance and were silent for a minute. Then Krech jerked his head toward
the door significantly.

"Could it be--her?" he whispered.

"Not grammatically!" retorted Creighton with a grin, much as if his
friend's query had freed him from a spell. "Piffle, Krech. If a woman
like that--high-strung, nervous--were to kill a man it would be in some
swift fit of passion. Varr's death came as the climax of a deliberate
campaign of persecution. She isn't capable of that."

"If you can tell me what any woman can or can't do--"

"Oh, I grant them an infinite capacity for surprising a man! However,
this interesting little interlude isn't getting us anywhere. Come into
the living-room. I want a look at that window before daylight goes."

"The police have probably mucked that all up," said Mr. Krech gloomily.

"I heard one of the detectives tell Norvallis they had found nothing.
Anyway, if I don't miss my guess, they were so satisfied with something
they're keeping up their sleeve that I don't believe they paid more
than cursory attention to other details. Just gave everything a
perfunctory once-over and let it go at that."

"What have they got, Creighton? Do you know?"

"Ch