ther person in
the house was pushing forward to see the bride, lends color to this
supposition; and his sudden death under circumstances tending to
rouse the imagination shows the extreme sensitiveness of his nature.

"He will be buried here."

The next paragraph was short. Fresher events were already crowding
this three-days-old wonder to the wall.

"Verdict in the case of Wallace Pfeiffer, found lying dead on the
hearthstone of the old Moore house library.

"Concussion of the brain, preceded by mental shock or heart failure.

"The body went on to Denver to=day."

And below, separated by the narrowest of spaces:

"Mr. and Mrs. Francis Jeffrey have decided to give up their wedding
tour and spend their honeymoon in Washington. They will occupy the
Ransome house on K Street."

The last paragraph brought me back to the question then troubling
my mind. Was it in the household of this newly married pair and in
the possible secret passions underlying their union that one should
look for the cause of the murderous crime I secretly imagined to be
hidden behind this seeming suicide? Or were these parties innocent
and old David Moore the one motive power in precipitating a tragedy,
the result of which had been to enrich him and impoverish them?
Certainly, a most serious and important question, and one which any
man might be pardoned for attempting to answer, especially if that
man was a young detective lamenting his obscurity and dreaming of a
recognition which would yield him fame and the wherewithal to marry
a certain clever but mischievous little minx of whom you are
destined to hear more.

But how was that same young detective, hampered as he was, and held
in thrall by a fear of ridicule and a total lack of record, to get
the chance to push an inquiry requiring opportunities which could
only come by special favor? This was what I continually asked
myself, and always without result.

True, I might approach the captain or the major with my story of
the tell-tale marks I had discovered in the dust covering the
southwest chamber mantel-shelf, and, if fortunate enough to find
that these had been passed over by the other detectives, seek to
gain a hearing thereby and secure for myself the privileges I so
earnestly desired. But my egotism was such that I wished to be
sure of the hand which had made these marks before I parted with
a secret which, once told, would make or mar me. Yet to obtain
the slight concessi