woman of the panel--Amelie Guernsey.

I had not noticed, up to this point, another woman who was standing
apart in the crowd, but now I happened to catch her eye. It was the
woman whose picture with the two children hung in Murchie's apartment.
Kennedy drew me back into the crowd, and there we watched the strange
tragedy of the wife that was and the wife that was to have been.

Craig hurried back to the city after that, and, as we pushed our way up
the ramp from the station, he looked hastily at his watch.

"Walter," he said, "I want you to locate Cecilie Safford and let me
know at the laboratory the moment you find her. And perhaps it would be
well to start at the police station."

It seemed to me as though the girl whom we had found so easily the
evening before had now utterly disappeared. At the police station she
had not been held, but had given an address which had proved fictitious.
At the cabaret saloon no one had seen her since the incident of the
fight.

As I left the place, I ran into Donovan, of the Tenderloin squad, and
put the case to him. He merely laughed.

"Of course I could find her any time I wanted to," he said. "I knew that
was a fake address."

He gave me the real address, and I hurried to the nearest telephone to
call up Craig.

"Have Donovan bring her over here as soon as he can find her," he called
back.

When I arrived at the laboratory, I found Kennedy engrossed in his
tests.

"Have you found anything definite?" I asked anxiously.

He nodded, but would say nothing.

"I've telephoned Broadhurst," he remarked, a moment later. "You remember
that the former Mrs. Murchie was at Belmore Inn. I have asked him to
stop and get her on the way down here in the car with McGee, and to get
Amelie Guernsey at the Idlewild, too." He continued to work. "And, oh
yes," he added: "I have asked Inspector O'Connor to take up another
line, too."

It was a strange gathering that assembled that forenoon. Donovan arrived
soon after I did, and with him, sure enough, was Cecilie Safford. A few
moments later Broadhurst's car swung up to the door, and Broadhurst
entered, accompanied by Amelie Guernsey. McGee followed, with the former
Mrs. Murchie.

"I don't want another job like that," whispered Broadhurst to Kennedy.
"I'm nearly frozen. Neither of those women has spoken a word since we
started."

"You can hardly blame them," returned Kennedy.

Mrs. Murchie was still a handsome woman. She now carried h