the conductors of the West Sedgwick
Branch Line. Though I could learn nothing definite, I fell into
conversation with one of them, a young Irishman, who was interested
because of my connection with the mystery.

"No, sir," he said, "I can't tell you anythin' about a stray transfer.
But one thing I can tell you. That 'ere murder was committed of a
Toosday night, wasn't it?"

"Yes," I returned.

"Well, that 'ere parlyvoo vally of Mr. Crawford's, he's rid, on my car
'most every Toosday night fer weeks and weeks. It's his night off. And
last Toosday night he didn't ride with me. Now I don't know's that means
anything, but agin it might."

It didn't seem to me that it meant much, for certainly Louis was not
under the slightest suspicion. And yet as I came to think about it, if
that had been Louis's transfer and if he had dropped it near the office
veranda, he had lied when he said that he went round the other side of
the house to reach the back entrance.

It was all very vague, but it narrowed itself down to the point that
if that were Louis's transfer it could be proved; and if not it must be
investigated further. For a trolley transfer, issued at a definite hour,
and dropped just outside the scene of the crime was certainly a clue of
importance.

I proceeded to the Crawford house, and though I intended to have a talk
with Louis later, I asked first for Miss Lloyd. Surely, if I were to
carry on my investigation of the case, in her interests, I must have a
talk with her. I had not intruded before, but now that the funeral was
over, the real work of tracking the criminal must be commenced, and as
one of the principal characters in the sad drama, Miss Lloyd must play
her part.

Until I found myself in her presence I had not actually realized how
much I wanted this interview.

I was sure that what she said, her manner and her facial expression,
must either blot out or strengthen whatever shreds of suspicion I held
against her.

"Miss Lloyd," I began, "I am, as you know, a detective; and I am here
in Sedgwick for the purpose of discovering the cowardly assassin of your
uncle. I assume that you wish to aid me in any way you can. Am I right
in this?"

Instead of the unhesitating affirmative I had expected, the girl spoke
irresolutely. "Yes," she said, "but I fear I cannot help you, as I know
nothing about it."

The fact that this reply did not sound to me as a rebuff, for which
it was doubtless intended, I can only