but I dare say there's a lot in it. Anyway, ask
her to come here, please, and tell her I won't keep her long from her
work."

Thus he played upon the sensibilities of his witnesses after a fashion
whose worth he had demonstrated frequently in the past. He had put
Bates a little more at his ease and to that extent weakened his
defenses if it became necessary to startle him into speaking the truth,
and he had sent a bouquet of flattering phrases to the cook which he
confidently counted on Bates to deliver with his summons. That the
butler had indeed done so was apparent the moment the cook appeared,
her fat red face wreathed in smiles. A cross, recalcitrant woman who
had sorely tried the patience of Mr. Norvallis the day before was an
angel of sweetness as she responded to Creighton's inquisition.

Unfortunately, she did not have anything of value to offer in repayment
for his studied politeness. Hers was the most prosaic of lives. She
rose in the morning, cooked all day and went to bed, to rise and cook
again. She knew nothing of what went on in the front part of the
house, and Bates was the most close-mouthed butler she had ever worked
with, he never opened his head about what he heard in the dining-room.

That let her out, and Creighton dismissed her with a request that she
send in Betty Blake.

When she had recovered from a preliminary attack of nervousness, the
pretty young housemaid unexpectedly produced information that gave
Creighton furiously to think, for he reawakened an idea that had been
present, but dormant, in his brain since his talk with Copley. It
reminded him of a chance remark made by Jason Bolt to the effect that
Langhorn had accompanied Graham when the latter came to see Varr, for
Betty described how in passing through the hall on her way to bed she
had seen the tannery manager "quarreling with Mr. Varr in his study."

"Sure they were quarreling, Betty?"

"Oh, yes, sir. They were both angry and excited."

"That was the night of the fire? The night of the robbery?"

"Yes, sir."

"You were on your way to bed--do you know what time it was?"

"Just past ten, sir,--or maybe half-past."

"That's near enough."

After a few more questions he let her go, telling her to ask Janet
Mackay to join him in the study at her first opportunity. While he
waited for the "tall, gaunt nondescript" to appear he contemplated the
case of William Graham, and sitting in Varr's chair he came slowly to