oof visible that the previous party had
remained for some time, seated and lying on the ground under protection
of the stone. The occupancy was a recent one. Then evidently, whoever it
was, had advanced to the right in the general direction of the gate
through the fence, near where Coolidge's body was found. The marks of
advance did not lead that far, or even to the marked path through the
field. They ended on a little rise, some ten yards from the boulder,
where the fellow apparently turned about, and retraced his steps."

"How far was that from the gate into the road, sir?" he asked
breathlessly.

"Within easy shooting distance for a revolver of that calibre, I should
say. Any good marksman could have rung the bell."

"And you saw no one?"

"No; not a sign; the fact is I failed at the time to put two and two
together. The thought of a possible murder never occurred to me. It was
only afterwards that I began to appreciate what all this might mean, and
now what you have said has driven it home."

"You think it was murder then, sir?"

"Yes, I do," replied West gravely. "It has all the marks, but who
committed the crime? What was the motive? It will never do for us to make
such a charge, after the coroner's verdict, without positive proof."

"No, sir."

"And you know of nothing which might clear this up?"

"No, sir; I've been with the Coolidges, sir, ever since Miss Natalie was
a little girl, and I ain't heard of any trouble that ought to end in
murder, sir."

"How old was Miss Coolidge when her father died?"

"She must have been seventeen, sir."

"And since then Percival Coolidge had full charge of the estate?"

"Practically, yes, sir; there was another trustee, but he died; and then,
as I understand, Miss Natalie had some funds of her own."

West took a cigar from his pocket, and lit it. Although not altogether
clear in his own mind, he had begun to see light. For a moment he smoked
in silence in an endeavour to figure out his own duty, while Sexton,
nervously clinching and unclinching his hands, watched and waited.

CHAPTER XII

AGAINST A STONE WALL

Was this discovery anything to him? What difference could it make whether
Percival Coolidge had died by his own hand, or been treacherously shot
from ambush? How would it benefit Natalie Coolidge to have the truth
revealed? And, if it would benefit her, why should he devote his time and
labour to such an effort? She had cast him off, thrown him