was killed. I want to tell how
young Blackburn got into that room. One of the windows was raised a
trifle, but that's no use. I've figured on the outside of the wing until
I'm dizzy. There's no way up for a normal man. An orangoutang would make
hard work of it. His latch key would have let him into the house, and it
would have been simple enough for him to find out that the old man had
changed his room. I've got to find out how he got past those doors,
locked on the inside."

He chuckled again.

"Almost like a sleep-walker's work."

Bobby shivered. Was that where the evidence pointed? Already the net was
too finely woven. The detective continued earnestly:

"I'm figuring on some scheme to make him show me the way. I've a sort of
plan for to-night, but it's only a chance."

"What?" Graham asked.

"Oh, no, sir," Howells laughed. "You'll learn about that when the
time comes."

"I don't understand you," Graham said. "You're sure of your man but you
keep no close watch on him. Do you know where he is now?"

"Haven't the slightest idea, Mr. Graham."

"What's to prevent his running away?"

"I'm offering him every opportunity. He wouldn't get far, and I've a
feeling that if he confessed by running he'd break down and give up the
whole thing. You've no idea how it frets me, Mr. Graham. I've got my man
practically in the chair, but from a professional point of view it isn't
a pretty piece of work until I find out how he got in and out of that
room. The thing seems impossible, and yet here we are, knowing that he
did it. Well, maybe I'll find out to-night. Hello!"

The door opened. Bobby from his hiding place could see Paredes on the
threshold, yawning and holding a cigarette in his fingers.

"Here you are," he said drowsily. "I've just been in the court. It made
me seek company. That court's too damp, Mr. Detective."

His laugh was lackadaisical.

"When the sun leaves it, the court seems full of, unfriendly things--what
the ignorant would call, ghosts. I'm Spanish and I know."

The detective grunted.

"Funny!" Paredes went on. "Observation doesn't seem to interest you. I'd
rather fancied it might."

He yawned again and put his cigarette to his lips. Puffing placidly, he
turned and left.

"What do you suppose he means by that?" the detective said to Graham.

Without waiting for an answer he followed Paredes from the room. Graham
went after him. Bobby threw back the rug and arose. For a moment he was
as cur