met before; and I
knew that he was of a nature to be pleased with his own prominence
as coroner, especially in the case of so important a man as Joseph
Crawford.

So I made allowance for this harmless conceit on his part, and was even
willing to cater to it a little by way of pleasing him. He seemed to me
a man, honest, but slow of thought; rather practical and serious, and
though overvaluing his own importance, yet not opinionated or stubborn.

"Mr. Burroughs," he said, "I'm very glad you could get here so promptly;
for the case seems to me a mysterious one, and the value of immediate
investigation cannot be overestimated."

"I quite agree with you," I returned. "And now will you tell me the
principal facts, as you know them, or will you depute some one else to
do so?"

"I am even now getting a jury together," he said, "and so you will be
able to hear all that the witnesses may say in their presence. In the
meantime, if you wish to visit the scene of the crime, Mr. Parmalee will
take you there."

At the sound of his name, Mr. Parmalee stepped forward and was
introduced to me. He proved to be a local detective, a young man who
always attended Coroner Monroe on occasions like the present; but who,
owing to the rarity of such occasions in West Sedgwick, had had little
experience in criminal investigation.

He was a young man of the type often seen among Americans. He was very
fair, with a pink complexion, thin, yellow hair and weak eyes. His
manner was nervously alert, and though he often began to speak with an
air of positiveness, he frequently seemed to weaken, and wound up his
sentences in a floundering uncertainty.

He seemed to be in no way jealous of my presence there, and indeed spoke
to me with an air of comradeship.

Doubtless I was unreasonable, but I secretly resented this. However I
did not show my resentment and endeavored to treat Mr. Parmalee as a
friend and co-worker.

The coroner had left us together, and we stood in the drawing-room,
talking, or rather he talked and I listened. Upon acquaintance he seemed
to grow more attractive. He was impulsive and jumped at conclusions, but
he seemed to have ideas, though they were rarely definitely expressed.

He told me as much as he knew of the details of the affair and proposed
that we go directly to the scene of the crime.

As this was what I was impatient to do, I consented.

"You see, it's this way," he said, in a confidential whisper, as we
tra