t was so odd to meet a man here not in evening clothes that I had
to ask who he was."

"Ferguson came to bring me some papers about a personal matter,"
explained Kent. He turned so as to face her. "Did you see a white
envelope lying on the table when you walked out on the porch?"

She bowed her head absently, her foot keeping time to the inspiring
music played by the orchestra stationed on the stair landing just above
where they sat. "You left it lying on the table."

"Yes, so I did," replied Kent. "And I believe I was so ungallant as to
bolt into the dining room in front of you. Please accept my apologies."
Behind her fan, which she used with languid grace, the widow watched
him.

"We all bolted together," she responded, "and are equally guilty--"

"Of what?" questioned a voice from the background, and looking up Kent
saw Colonel McIntyre standing on the step above Mrs. Brewster. The
music had ceased and in the lull their conversation had been distinctly
audible.

"Guilty of curiosity," finished the widow.

"Colonel de Geofroy's farewell speech was very amusing, did you not
think so?"

"I did not stay to hear it," Kent confessed. "I had to return to the
porch and get my envelope."

"You were a long time about it," commented McIntyre, sitting down by
Mrs. Brewster and possessing himself of her fan. "I waited to tell you
that Helen and Barbara were worn out after the inquest and so stayed at
home to-night, but you didn't show up."

"Neither did the envelope," retorted Kent, and as his companions looked
at him, he added. "It had disappeared off the table."

"Probably blew away," suggested McIntyre. "I noticed a strong current
of air from the dining room, and two of the windows inclosing the porch
were open.

"That's hardly possible," Kent replied skeptically. "The envelope
weighed at least two ounces; it would have taken quite a gale to budge
it."

McIntyre turned red. "Are you insinuating that one of us walked off with
your envelope, Kent?" he demanded angrily. Mrs. Brewster stayed him as
he was about to rise.

"Did you not say that Detective Ferguson brought you the envelope, Mr.
Kent?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Then what more likely than that he carried it off again?" She smiled
amusedly as Kent's expression altered. "Why not ask the detective?"

Her suggestion held a grain of truth. Suppose Ferguson had not believed
his statement that the papers in the envelope were his personal property
and had tak