ice at home, sir."

"Who discovered the tragedy?"

"I don't rightly know, sir, if it was Louis, his valet, or Lambert, the
butler, but it was one or t'other, sir."

"Or both together?" I suggested.

"Yes, sir; or both together."

"Is any one suspected of the crime?"

The man hesitated a moment, and looked as if uncertain what to reply,
then, as he set his jaw squarely, he said:

"Not as I knows on, sir."

"Tell me something of the town," I observed next, feeling that it was
better to ask no more vital questions of a servant.

We were driving along streets of great beauty. Large and handsome
dwellings, each set in the midst of extensive and finely-kept grounds,
met the view on either aide. Elaborate entrances opened the way to wide
sweeps of driveway circling green velvety lawns adorned with occasional
shrubs or flower-beds. The avenues were wide, and bordered with trees
carefully set out and properly trimmed. The streets were in fine
condition, and everything betokened a community, not only wealthy, but
intelligent and public-spirited. Surely West Sedgwick was a delightful
location for the homes of wealthy New York business men.

"Well, sir," said the coachman, with unconcealed pride, "Mr. Crawford
was the head of everything in the place. His is the handsomest house and
the grandest grounds. Everybody respected him and looked up to him. He
hadn't an enemy in the world."

This was an opening for further conjecture as to the murderer, and I
said: "But the man who killed him must have been his enemy."

"Yes, sir; but I mean no enemy that anybody knew of. It must have been
some burglar or intruder."

Though I wanted to learn such facts as the coachman might know, his
opinions did not interest me, and I again turned my attention to the
beautiful residences we were passing.

"That place over there," the man went on, pointing with his whip, "is
Mr. Philip Crawford's house--the brother of my master, sir. Them red
towers, sticking up through the trees, is the house of Mr. Lemuel
Porter, a great friend of both the Crawford brothers. Next, on the left,
is the home of Horace Hamilton, the great electrician. Oh, Sedgwick is
full of well-known men, sir, but Joseph Crawford was king of this town.
Nobody'll deny that."

I knew of Mr. Crawford's high standing in the city, and now, learning
of his local preeminence, I began to think I was about to engage in what
would probably be a very important case.

II. THE