the head bowed so
low that some of the black curls had fallen into a large open bowl of
powder. She was no longer wearing the brown silk summer coat whose open
front had given him a glimpse of pale yellow chiffon.

He saw the dress now, a low-cut, sleeveless, fluffy affair, but he
really had eyes only for the brownish-red hole on the left side of the
back of the bodice, about halfway between shoulder and waist--a waist so
small he could have spanned it with his two hands, including its band of
fuchsia velvet ribbon. There also had been a bow of fuchsia velvet
ribbon on the lace and straw hat she had swung so charmingly less than
five hours ago.

"Shot through the heart, I guess," Strawn commented. "Took a good
marksman to find her heart, shooting her through the back.... Funny
thing, too. Nobody heard the shot--leastways none of that crowd penned
up in the living room will admit they did. They'll all hang together,
and lie like sixty to keep us from finding out anything that might point
to one of _their_ precious bunch! But if a gun with a Maxim silencer
_was_ used, as it must have been if that whole crew ain't lying, the
gunman musta been _good_, because you can't sight with a Maxim screwed
onto a rod, you know."

"Have your men found the gun?" Dundee asked.

"Of course not, or I'd know whether it had a Maxim on it or not," Strawn
retorted. "My theory is," he added impressively, "that somebody with a
grudge against this dame hired a gunman to hang around till he got her
dead to rights, then--plop!" and he imitated the soft, thudding sound
made by the discharge of a bullet from a gun equipped with a silencer.

"Doesn't it seem rather strange that a professional gunman should have
chosen such a time--with men arriving in cars, and the house full of
women who might wander into this room at any minute--to bump off his
victim?" Dundee asked.

"Well, there ain't no other explanation," Captain Strawn contended.
"Outside of the fact that my men have gone over the whole house and
grounds without finding the gun, I've got other evidence it was an
outside job.... Look!"

Dundee followed the Chief of the Homicide Squad to one of the two
windows that looked out upon the driveway. Both were open, since the May
day was exceptionally warm, even for the Middle West. The unscreened
window from which he obediently leaned was almost directly in line with
the vanity dressing-table across the room.

"Look! See how them vines have