, and,
lighting a cigar, settled back into an easy chair to fight the whole out
alone with himself.

The adventures of the night had greatly changed his conception of this
affair in which he had become so strangely involved. The mystery
confronting him appeared more difficult of solution than ever. His first
vague theory of the case had already gone completely to smash. Question
after question rose before him which remained unanswered. He was more
thoroughly convinced than ever that Percival Coolidge had been murdered;
that the act had been committed either by Hobart himself, or under his
direction. He possessed no proof, however, nor could he figure out a
motive for the crime. Who was this Jim Hobart? That was one of the first
things to be learned. Was he in any way personally interested in the
fortune left by Stephen Coolidge? Or did he hold any special relationship
with the murdered man? How could he expect to profit by the sudden death
of Percival? More important still, what peculiar influence did the fellow
exert over the girl? Here was by far the deeper mystery, the one that
troubled him most. The others seemed possible of explanation, but the
sudden change in Natalie Coolidge was beyond all understanding.

Except in face, form, dress, outward appearance, she no longer seemed to
West as being the same woman he had formerly known. His original interest
in her had vanished; he had learned to distrust and doubt her sincerity
and truth. Beyond all question she was openly playing an important part
in this tragedy under Hobart's direction, but for the life of him he
could not figure out to what end. Still the very mystery of it had its
fascination. While he felt no longer any special desire to serve her, to
further risk his life in her cause, yet he experienced a fierce
determination to learn what all this really meant; to uncover the object
these conspirators had in view. Although he imagined love no longer
spurred him on, his real interest in the affair became even more intense,
with an aroused desire to read the riddle. He convinced himself that from
henceforth this was to be his only object--not the girl, nor any
attraction she once had for him, but a stern determination to solve this
crime, and bring its perpetrators to justice. If she was involved it
could not be helped, she would have to suffer with the rest; his own duty
was clear.

Yet how could he begin action? What clue did he possess which could be
follow