itting murder?
Improbable!

"I was in the editorial rooms of the _News_ from ten-thirty until
quarter to twelve, when I left to catch the midnight train to New York.
At least three men connected with the paper will bear me out."

"That's bully!" said Creighton. "The crowd on my list will be in luck
if they do half as well. One thing more, Mr. Varr, and then I'm off to
real work. Was William Graham in the habit of coming to this house?"

Again Copley jumped, but this time with the air of shrinking from a
blow rather than delivering one. His voice, when it came, was hoarse.

"Don't ask me that--now!"

"Um. Yes, it's rather a tough question--new father-in-law, new bride
and all that! You needn't answer it, Mr. Varr!"

"Plainer than you have already, my son!" he added to himself as he left
the room. "William Graham--to the bar!"

Creighton was light on his feet and invariably wore rubber-soled
shoes--not, as he had been obliged to explain to Krech aforetime,
because he was trying to be the complete pussy-footed sleuth, but
because he really preferred them to leather. The result, however,
whether designed or not, was to make him as soundless in his movements
as a panther.

He slipped noiselessly along the hall to the front door, his thoughts
busy with what he had just learned, his immediate intention to go to
town for the talk he had promised himself with Judge Taylor. Lawyers
often could throw light on an affair of this kind if they chose to;
what if there were some secret, unsuspected page in Simon Varr's life--?

As he put on his hat and stepped out of the front door, he heard the
low hum of voices from the cozy corner at the end of the piazza. He
wondered who it might be, and curiosity turned his steps in that
direction. Instead of turning the corner, however, he halted abruptly
when he heard his own name spoken by unmistakable accents.

"Where is Mr. Creighton, do you know?"

"He's in the study with Master Copley. Do you wish to speak to him,
Miss Ocky?"

"No. Has he had any conversation with you yet, Bates?"

"No, Miss Ocky; nothing special."

"He probably will, though. It struck me, Bates, that you might
inadvertently mention our little talk of the other day if I didn't warn
you. I don't think that would be advisable."

"Nor do I, Miss Ocky! I was only afraid you might let it out yourself!"

"It would be a pity to put notions in his head," continued Miss Ocky
calmly. "I must say, M