l evidence of that. It's mysterious from
the very lack of anything suspicious."

"Was he--was he in bed?" asked Shelby, who had heard no detail of
Thorpe's finding the body.

"Yes," said Doctor Middleton, the Examiner. "It seems his room-mate
found him, in bed, in his night-wear, and immediately called the doorman
of the house."

"And then Thorpe lit out," remarked Detective Weston. "I want to see
him."

"Oh, Thorpe's all right," said Mr. Crane. "He's down at my house. I'll
vouch for him. You needn't look that way for the criminal,--if there is
a criminal."

"I should say not!" declared Shelby. "McClellan Thorpe and Mr. Blair
were the greatest friends."

"But I can't think Gilbert was killed," Mr. Crane went on. "Seems to me
if that were the case, there'd be some evidence of an intruder. And as
Gilbert has no friends,--I mean no relatives or family in the city, I'll
take up the matter myself. I'd like a thorough investigation, not so
much to prove there was a criminal as to prove there wasn't one. I don't
think there was, but I'd like a search made for any light that can be
thrown on the matter."

"Oh, we'll investigate all right," said Weston; "I think somebody bumped
the man off. I don't see any possibility for an accident, but it's more
like suicide to me."

"Let's look around a bit," said Shelby. "I'm with you, Mr. Crane, in
assuming responsibility. Why, who is there to take charge of Gilbert's
things,--his estate?"

"It's hardly a big enough matter to call an estate," Crane said; "of
course, I know more or less of Blair's affairs, and he wasn't by any
means affluent. Indeed, his hopes of the prize in the coming competition
represented his chief asset."

"Thought he'd get a prize, did he?" said Weston, "for what?"

"For his architectural design," Crane answered. "He was working hard,
and was hopeful. That's why I feel sure he never killed himself."

"Here are his designs," said Shelby, as he opened a big portfolio. "Why
don't you take these, Mr. Crane, and take them home with you. They're
really valuable."

"Of course they are,--I'll do that," agreed the older man. "Blair has a
sister, somewhere out West. If anything comes of the drawings, it will
be hers."

"Can you get in touch with his family?" asked Middleton.

"Don't know anything about them," Crane returned. "I suppose there must
be letters or an address book or some such matters in Blair's desk.
Thorpe may know more about it than I do."