f the servants did not know the contents of
the will, and we have all of the data, Radnor is the only one who could
knowingly have benefited by the Colonel's death. Suppose we take a
glance at motives of fear. Do you know of anyone who had reason to stand
in fear of the Colonel? He wasn't oppressing anybody? No damaging
evidence against any person in his possession? Not levying black-mail
was he?"

"Not that I know of," and I smiled slightly.

"It's not likely," mused Terry, "but you never can tell what is going to
come out when a respectable man is dead.--And now as to revenge. With a
man of Colonel Gaylord's character, there were likely to be a good many
people who owed him a bad turn. He seems to have been a peppery old
gentleman. It's quite on the cards that he had some enemies among his
neighbors?"

"No, so far as I can discover, he was very popular in the neighborhood.
The indignation over his death was something tremendous. When it first
got out that Rad was accused of the crime, there was even talk of
lynching him."

"So?--Servants all appeared to be fond of him?"

"The old family servants were broken-hearted at the news of his death.
They had been, for the most part, born and bred on the place, and in
spite of his occasional harshness they loved the Colonel with the
old-fashioned devotion of the slave toward his master. He was in his way
exceedingly kind to them. When old Uncle Eben died my uncle watched all
night by his bed."

"It's a queer situation," Terry muttered, and relapsed into silence till
we reached the jail.

It was an ivy-covered brick building set back from the street and shaded
by trees.

"Rather more home-like than the Tombs," Terry commented. "Shouldn't mind
taking a rest in it myself."

We found Radnor pacing up and down the small room in which he was
confined, like a caged animal; the anxiety and seclusion were beginning
to tell on his nerves. He faced about quickly as the door opened and at
sight of me his face lightened. He was growing pathetically pleased at
having anyone with whom he could talk.

"Rad," I said with an air of cheerfulness which was not entirely
assumed, "I hope we're nearing the end of our trouble at last. This is
Mr. Patten--Terry Patten of New York, who has come to help me unravel
the mystery."

It was an unfortunate beginning; I had told him before of Terry's
connection with the Patterson-Pratt affair. He had half held out his
hand as I commenced to spea