the inspector agreed.

He turned back to his papers, shaking his head.

It is, perhaps, as well, when one fears, that the march of routine
brings new and destructive demands. It was only a few days afterwards
that Garth and Nora were involved in events that drove their minds for
the time from the threat, which they should never have quite lost sight
of. Yet the Elmford murder didn't leave room in one's mind for much
else.

On the afternoon before that tragedy Garth, leaving headquarters, made
an unaccustomed purchase. Not long ago such affectation would have
appealed to his sturdy, straightforward mind of a detective as trivial,
possibly unmasculine. He reddened as he handed his ten cents to the
shapeless Italian woman whose fingers about his coat lapel were
confusingly deft. He had no illusions as to the source of this foppish
prompting. The inspector had called him in and told him that Nora would
welcome him at the flat for dinner that evening. The event appeared a
milestone on the amorous path he sought to explore hand in hand with the
girl. He realized his desired destination was not yet in view, but such
progress required a deviation from the familiar--some peculiar
concession to its significance. So he turned away from the cheap
sidewalk stand, wearing, for the first time in his life, a flower in his
button hole--a rose of doubtful future and unaristocratic lineage.

* * * * * *

Before following Garth with his blushing decoration it is serviceable to
know what happened at Elmford.

CHAPTER V

WHAT HAPPENED AT ELMFORD

That night on the edge of winter it was thoroughly dark when Dr. John
Randall left New York for his Long Island home. Treving had unexpectedly
detained him at the club. The interview had evidently projected more
than the unforeseen, for Randall's habitual calm, which carried even to
his hours of relaxation a perpetual flavor of the professional, was
suddenly destroyed by the color and the lines of a passionate
indecision. He crossed the Queensborough bridge and threaded the Long
Island city streets with a reckless disregard of traffic which probably
went undisciplined only because of the green cross on the radiator of
his automobile.

His house, although just within the city limits, had an air,
particularly under this wan starlight, remote and depressing. It stood
in wide grounds not far from the water. Heavy trees, which clustered
near, appeared t