woman who called on Mr. Vantine to-night?"

Again Rogers shook his head.

"Oh, no," he protested; "it's not the same woman at all. This one is
younger."

Godfrey made no reply; but he sat down and looked at Rogers, and
Rogers lay and gazed at the picture, and gradually his face softened,
as though at some tender memory.

"Come, Rogers," I urged, at last. "You'd better tell us all you know.
If this is the woman, don't hesitate to say so."

"I've told you all I know, Mr. Lester," said Rogers, but he did not
meet my eyes. "And I'm feeling pretty bad. I think I'd better be
getting to bed."

"Yes, that's best," agreed Godfrey promptly. "Parks will help you,"
and he held out his hand for the photograph.

Rogers relinquished it with evident reluctance. He opened his lips as
though to ask a question; then closed them again, and got slowly to
his feet, Parks aiding him.

"Good-night, gentlemen," he said weakly, and shuffled away, leaning
heavily on Parks's shoulder.

"Well!" said I, looking at Godfrey. "What do you think of that?"

"He's lying, of course. We've got to find out why he's lying and
bring it home to him. But it's getting late--I must get down to the
office. One word, Lester--be sure Rogers doesn't give you the slip."

"I'll have him looked after," I promised. "But I fancy he'll be
afraid to run away. Besides, it is possible he's telling the truth. I
don't believe any woman had anything to do with either death."

Godfrey turned, as he was starting away, and stopped to look at me.

"Who did then?" he asked.

"Nobody."

"You mean they both suicided in that abnormal way?"

"No, it wasn't suicide--they were killed--but not by a human being
--at least, not directly." I felt that I was floundering hopelessly,
and stopped. "I can't tell you now, Godfrey," I pleaded. "I haven't
had time to think it out. You've got enough for one day."

"Yes," he smiled; "I've got enough for one day. And now good-bye.
Perhaps I'll look in on you about midnight, on my way home, if I get
through by then."

I sighed. Godfrey's energy became a little wearing sometimes. I was
already longing for bed, and there remained so much to be done. But
he, after a day which I knew had been a hard one, and with a
many-column story still to write, was apparently as fresh and eager
as ever.

"All right," I agreed. "If you see a light, come up. If there isn't
any light, I'll be in bed, and I'll kill you if you wake me."

"Conditions