lf. That's when I got his wig."

"I should not be surprised if we all were murdered in our beds," said
Tucker.

"That's right, Tuck," said Crane, "look on the cheerful side. Come with
me now, while I speak to Smithfield. I want to know what he has to say
for himself."

Smithfield, looking particularly elegant in his shirt sleeves, a costume
which shows off a slim figure to great advantage, was rather languidly
setting the dinner-table for two; that is to say, he was rubbing a
wine-glass, shaped like a miniature New England elm-tree, to remove the
faint imprint of his own fingers.

"Smithfield," said Crane briskly, "I'm afraid your new useful man isn't
going to be very useful. He seems to me too old."

Smithfield placed the glass deliberately upon the table.

"He's not so old as he appears, sir," he answered. "Only sixty-six his
next birthday."

"A married man?"

"No, sir, a widower of many years. His wife died when her first baby was
born--that's Mr. Crosslett-Billington's present chauffeur. That's how I
happened to get the old fellow. And when the rheumatism--"

"Smithfield," said Crane, "that's about enough. Put down that glass, put
on your coat and hat, and get out. You're lying to me, and you've been
lying to me from the beginning. Don't stay to pack your things; you can
settle all that with Mr. Reed to-morrow. Get out of my house, and don't
let me see you again. And," he added, throwing the gray wig into his
hands, "there's a souvenir for you."

Smithfield, without the least change of expression, caught the wig,
bowed, and withdrew.

"And now, Tuck," Crane added, turning to his lawyer, "I wish you would
go and telephone Reed to come here at once and clear this whole thing
up. Tell him I'll send the motor for him as soon as it comes back."

"It's dinner-time now," observed Tucker.

"Ask him to dinner then," said Crane. "I must go and see that Smithfield
really gets out of this house."

[Illustration: _Scene from the Play_ THE DINNER. OLIVIA, LEFFERTS,
TUCKER, WEEKS AND CRANE. _Act III_]

Both tasks had been accomplished when at about eight o'clock Tucker and
Crane again met in the hall. Smithfield had been actually seen off the
place, Tucker had telephoned Reed and despatched the motor for him,
and now the sound of an approaching car was heard.

"That can't be Reed, yet," said Tucker, "there hasn't been time."

Crane shook his head.

"It isn't the sound of my engine, either," he answered.

H