e into her possession.

At two o'clock I started from my office to attend the inquest; but,
being delayed on the way, missed arriving at the house until after the
delivery of the verdict. This was a disappointment to me, especially as
by these means I lost the opportunity of seeing Eleanore Leavenworth,
she having retired to her room immediately upon the dismissal of the
jury. But Mr. Harwell was visible, and from him I heard what the verdict
had been.

"Death by means of a pistol shot from the hand of some person unknown."

The result of the inquest was a great relief to me. I had feared worse.
Nor could I help seeing that, for all his studied self-command, the
pale-faced secretary shared in my satisfaction.

What was less of a relief to me was the fact, soon communicated, that
Mr. Gryce and his subordinates had left the premises immediately upon
the delivery of the verdict. Mr. Gryce was not the man to forsake an
affair like this while anything of importance connected with it remained
unexplained. Could it be he meditated any decisive action? Somewhat
alarmed, I was about to hurry from the house for the purpose of learning
what his intentions were, when a sudden movement in the front lower
window of the house on the opposite side of the way arrested my
attention, and, looking closer, I detected the face of Mr. Fobbs peering
out from behind the curtain. The sight assured me I was not wrong in my
estimate of Mr. Gryce; and, struck with pity for the desolate girl left
to meet the exigencies of a fate to which this watch upon her movements
was but the evident precursor, I stepped back and sent her a note, in
which, as Mr. Veeley's representative, I proffered my services in case
of any sudden emergency, saying I was always to be found in my rooms
between the hours of six and eight. This done, I proceeded to the house
in Thirty-seventh Street where I had left Miss Mary Leavenworth the day
before.

Ushered into the long and narrow drawing-room which of late years
has been so fashionable in our uptown houses, I found myself almost
immediately in the presence of Miss Leavenworth.

"Oh," she cried, with an eloquent gesture of welcome, "I had begun to
think I was forsaken!" and advancing impulsively, she held out her hand.
"What is the news from home?"

"A verdict of murder, Miss Leavenworth."

Her eyes did not lose their question.

"Perpetrated by party or parties unknown."

A look of relief broke softly across her