too thin to have
been made by a finger, but it might have been caused by somebody's having
tugged at a chain about her neck until it broke."

"The thunder you say! I didn't notice any of that."

"I'll show you the marks when we go back there."

"But," objected Greenleaf, "I know Mr. Campbell. He's not the sort to
steal. And I don't suppose Morley is."

"They say the same thing about bank presidents," Bristow replied with a
slight smile, "but some of them get caught at it, nevertheless."

"Yes; but this is different--unless the murdered woman had extremely
valuable jewelry."

"That's true. Besides, if the front door was unlocked all night, or, even
if somebody knocked at the door and Mrs. Withers answered it, there is
your third possibility, any ordinary robbery and murder."

"I believe that's what will come out," Greenleaf said, his troubled face
showing his worried consciousness of inability to handle the situation;
"but how will we--how will I prove it?"

"Morley and Campbell can make their own statements."

Bristow, going to the dining room door, called toward the kitchen:

"Mattie!"

Replying to his summons, a middle-aged coloured woman appeared.

"Mattie, didn't I hear Perry tell you yesterday that he was to go to work
this morning for Mrs. Withers, 'making' her garden?"

"Yas, suh," answered Mattie, still breathing heavily from her hurried
return from No. 5.

"Has he been around this morning?"

"Naw, suh."

"Do you know where Mrs. Withers' servant lives?"

"Yas, suh."

"What's her name?"

"Lucy Thomas, suh."

"Well, I want you to go there right away and find out what's the matter
with her, why she didn't show up for work this morning. Take your time.
Dinner can wait."

When Mattie had gone, Bristow explained:

"This Perry--Perry Carpenter--is a young negro who does odd jobs in this
section. He's about twenty-five, I guess. Each of these bungalows has a
garden back of it, you know. There are no houses behind us. I don't like
Perry's looks. He did some gardening for me Saturday and yesterday."

"You think he----?"

"He's got a bad face. If neither Campbell nor Morley killed Mrs. Withers,
why shouldn't we find out where Perry and the servant woman of Number
Five are now, and where they were all last night?"

"I reckon that's right," chimed in Greenleaf. "It looks something like a
common darky job at that."

"And this," added Bristow, taking something from his vest pocket and
handin