d, stepping upon the front porch, and walking directly into
the hall. I saw no one outside or near the house when I arrived," Drake
answered, with less than his usual nastiness.

"And saw no one running away across the meadows?" Dundee pressed.

"No one at all," Drake retorted. "I wish to God I could truthfully say
that I saw a gunman, with a mask and a smoking revolver, skulking
through the wildflowers, but the absolute truth is that I saw no one."

"Thank you, Mr. Drake.... Now--Mr. Sprague, 'of New York'!"

Sprague's nervously twitching face reddened darkly. "I--I took a bus. I
have no car of my own. I got off the bus on Sheridan Road, at the
entrance to Primrose Meadows."

"I see. And you walked the quarter of a mile to this house?"

Sprague's hand fumbled with his cravat. "I--of course I did!"

"I see.... Now, Miss Raymond," Dundee pounced unexpectedly, so that the
red-haired girl went very white beneath her freckles, "you observed Mr.
Sprague toiling down the rutty road, hot and weary, but romantic in the
sunset?"

Mrs. Drake let out a nervous giggle, then clapped her hand over her
mouth.

"I--I wasn't looking that way," Janet Raymond stammered. "I--I just went
out on the porch for a breath of fresh air--"

"And you were _completely_ surprised when Mr. Sprague came walking up
the flagstone path?" Dundee persisted, for he knew she was lying, knew
that she had stationed herself there to watch for Sprague.

"I--yes, I was! He stopped and talked for a while, before we came in and
joined Tracey and Lois in the dining room, where Tracey was mixing
cocktails.... But," she flared suddenly, "I don't see why you have to
badger all of us, when it _must_ have been Lydia, the maid, who killed
Nita, because--"

"Oh, Janet! Shame on you!" Penny cried furiously.

"Where is the maid now, Captain Strawn?" Dundee asked. "I haven't seen
her yet--"

"Because she's in her room in the basement, Bonnie," Strawn answered.
"Sort of forgot about her, didn't you?" and he chuckled at the younger
man's discomfiture. "But _I_ got her story out of her, you bet! Nothing
to it, though. One of my boys--Collins, it was--found her in that short,
dark hall that runs between the Selim woman's bedroom and the kitchen.
Sicker'n a pup she was; it was a mess. Said she'd--"

"I'd better have her up and question her, if she's well enough," Dundee
interrupted, as tactfully as possible. "It seems that she had an
abscessed tooth out today, wit