. Jamieson read it: then he gave it to me.
It was an address in fresh ink--

LUCIEN WALLACE, 14 Elm Street, Richfield.

As the card went around, I think both the detective and I watched for
any possible effect it might have, but, beyond perplexity, there seemed
to be none.

"Richfield!" Gertrude exclaimed. "Why, Elm Street is the main street;
don't you remember, Halsey?"

"Lucien Wallace!" Halsey said. "That is the child Stewart spoke of at
the inquest."

Warner, with his mechanic's instinct, had reached for the key. What he
said was not a surprise.

"Yale lock," he said. "Probably a key to the east entry."

There was no reason why Thomas, an old and trusted servant, should not
have had a key to that particular door, although the servants' entry
was in the west wing. But I had not known of this key, and it opened
up a new field of conjecture. Just now, however, there were many
things to be attended to, and, leaving Warner with the body, we all
went back to the house. Mr. Jamieson walked with me, while Halsey and
Gertrude followed.

"I suppose I shall have to notify the Armstrongs," I said. "They will
know if Thomas had any people and how to reach them. Of course, I
expect to defray the expenses of the funeral, but his relatives must be
found. What do you think frightened him, Mr. Jamieson?"

"It is hard to say," he replied slowly, "but I think we may be certain
it was fright, and that he was hiding from something. I am sorry in
more than one way: I have always believed that Thomas knew something,
or suspected something, that he would not tell. Do you know hour much
money there was in that worn-out wallet of his? Nearly a hundred
dollars! Almost two months' wages--and yet those darkies seldom have a
penny. Well--what Thomas knew will be buried with him."

Halsey suggested that the grounds be searched, but Mr. Jamieson vetoed
the suggestion.

"You would find nothing," he said. "A person clever enough to get into
Sunnyside and tear a hole in the wall, while I watched down-stairs, is
not to be found by going around the shrubbery with a lantern."

With the death of Thomas, I felt that a climax had come in affairs at
Sunnyside. The night that followed was quiet enough. Halsey watched at
the foot of the staircase, and a complicated system of bolts on the
other doors seemed to be effectual.

Once in the night I wakened and thought I heard the tapping again. But
all was quiet, and I