but the man
we've got had the chance that night. They weren't near enough."

The investigator bent toward the speaker, his eyes steadily upon his
face.

"How sure are you of that?" said he.

Osborne took his thumbs from the armholes of his vest

"I'm certain," he replied. "There wasn't any one around but them we know
of. And that being the case there couldn't be----"

But Ashton-Kirk stopped him.

"Just one moment! Don't you think you are rather offhand in saying 'and
that being the case'? Are you quite sure that it is the case?"

Osborne pulled himself up straight in his chair and stared at the
investigator. Bat Scanlon, watching and listening, felt a little stir of
excitement as he realized what his friend was about.

"He's getting him worked up into a state of doubt," was Bat's opinion.
"In a minute he'll have him so he won't know what he believes."

However, there was more than this in the big athlete's thoughts. The way
Ashton-Kirk took to bring doubt to the mind of the headquarters man
awoke a vague distrust in that of Scanlon. The question of motive filled
him with uneasiness--that as to the likelihood of a person other than
young Burton being near enough to strike the death blow, turned him cold
and helpless.

"You've got something on your mind," said Osborne to the investigator.
He arose to his feet and stood with shoulders squared and legs very wide
apart. "What's it all about?"

From his coat pocket Ashton-Kirk drew a glittering little revolver.

"I picked this up on the lawn at No. 620 Duncan Street the morning I
went over the place," said he, quietly.

The big headquarters man almost snatched the weapon from his hand, so
disturbed was he at this announcement. With greedy eyes he inspected it.

"Smith & Wesson," said he. "Twenty-two calibre, five chambers, all
loaded." He stood weighing the revolver in his hand and looking at the
investigator. "Anything more?" he asked.

"I saw undoubted indications of a woman's presence--a woman who had been
lurking outside the house and peering in at the window of the room in
which the Bounder was killed."

"A woman!" Quick excitement was in Osborne's face. "Why, one of the
first things I said when the news came in was----" He stopped, a frown
wrinkled his brow and he shook his head. "Indications are one thing, but
proof is another," he said. "Suppose it was shown that a woman _was_
hanging around outside the house that night?--suppose she carried this