your trust."

"You already have it, Harry!" Impulsively Helen extended her hand, and
he held it in a firm clasp for a second. "Babs and I have come at once
to you in our trouble."

"Yes, but you have only hinted what that trouble, was," he reminded
her gently. "I cannot really aid you until you give me your full
confidence."

Helen looked away from him and out of the window. The relief, which
had lighted her face a moment before, had vanished. It was some minutes
before she answered.

"Babs told you that I suspected Jimmie did not die from angina
pectoris--" She spoke with an effort.

"Yes."

She waited a second before continuing her remarks. "I have asked the
coroner to make an investigation." She paused again, then added
with more animation, "He is the one to tell us if a crime has been
committed."

"He can tell if death has been accelerated by a weapon, or a drug,"
responded Kent; he was weighing his words carefully so that she might
understand him fully. "But to constitute a crime, it has to be proved
first, that the act has been committed, and second, that a guilty mind
or malice prompted it. Can you furnish a clew to establish either of the
last mentioned facts in connection with Jimmie's death?"

Kent wondered if she had heard him, she was so long in replying, and he
was about to repeat his question when she addressed him.

"Have you heard from Coroner Penfield?"

"No. I tried several times to get him on the telephone, but without
success," replied Kent; his disappointment at not receiving an answer
to his question showed in his manner. "I went to Penfield's house last
night, but he had been called away on a case and, although I waited
until nearly ten o'clock, he had not returned when I left. Have you had
word from him?"

"Not--not directly." She had been nervously twisting her handkerchief
about in her fingers; suddenly she turned and looked full at Kent, her
eyes burning feverishly. "I would give all I possess, my hope of future
happiness even, if I could prove that Jimmie died from angina pectoris."

Kent looked at her in mingled sympathy and doubt.--What did her words
imply--further tragedy?

"Jimmie might not have died from angina pectoris," he said, "and still
not have been poisoned--"

"You mean--"

"Suicide."

Slowly Helen took in his meaning, but she volunteered no remark, and
Kent after a pause, added, "While I have not seen Coroner Penfield I
did hear last night what killed Jim