looked at me indulgently, and I think his shrewd
perceptions told him at once that I was more interested in Miss Lloyd
than a mere detective need be.

"You are right," he said; "but I considered this a confidential
session."

"It is," broke in Mr. Goodrich, "and if you will stay, Mr. Porter, I
shall be glad to have you listen to whatever Mr. Burroughs has to tell
us, and then give us the benefit of your advice."

I practically echoed the district attorney's words, for I knew Lemuel
Porter to be a clear-headed and well-balanced business man, and his
opinions well worth having.

So it was to two very interested hearers that I related first the story
of Florence's coming downstairs at eleven o'clock on the fatal night,
for a final endeavor to gain her uncle's consent to her betrothal.

"Then it was her bag!" exclaimed Mr. Porter. "I thought so all the
time."

I said nothing at the moment and listened for Mr. Goodrich's comment.

"To my mind," said the district attorney slowly, "this story, told now
by Miss Lloyd, is in her favor. If the girl were guilty, or had any
guilty knowledge of the crime, she would not have told of this matter
at all. It was not forced from her; she told it voluntarily, and I, for
one, believe it."

"She told it," said I, "because she wished to take the responsibility
of the fallen rose petals upon herself. Since we are speaking plainly,
I may assure you, gentlemen, that she told of her later visit to the
office because I hinted to her that the yellow leaves might implicate
Gregory Hall."

"Then," said Mr. Goodrich triumphantly, "she herself suspects Mr. Hall,
which proves that she is innocent."

"It doesn't prove her innocent of collusion," observed Mr. Porter.

"Nor does it prove that she suspects Mr. Hall," I added. "It merely
shows that she fears others may suspect him."

"It is very complicated," said the district attorney.

"It is," I agreed, "and that is why I wish to send for the famous
detective, Fleming Stone."

"Stone! Nonsense!" exclaimed Mr. Goodrich. "I have every confidence in
your skill, Mr. Burroughs; I would not insult you by calling in another
detective."

"Surely not," agreed Mr. Porter. "If you need help, Mr. Burroughs,
confer with our local man, Mr. Parmalee. He's a pretty clever chap, and
I don't know why you two don't work more together."

"We do work together," said I. "Mr. Parmalee is both clever and
congenial, and we have done our best in the matter.