terrupted while they
moved about the place in quiet consultation. Others had preceded them;
had examined the plain little desk and found nothing; had paced off the
distances; had looked with longing and inquiring eyes at the elevator
cage and the open archway leading to the little staircase and the
musicians' gallery. But this was nothing to the old detective. The
locale was what he wanted, and he got it. Whether he got anything else
it would be impossible to say from his manner as he finally sank into a
chair by one of the openings, and looked down on the lobby below. It was
full of people coming and going on all sorts of business, and presently
he drew back, and, leaning on Sweetwater's arm, asked him a few
questions.

"Who were the first to rush in here after the Parrishes gave the alarm?"

"One or two of the musicians from the end of the hall. They had just
finished their programme and were preparing to leave the gallery.
Naturally they reached her first."

"Good! their names?"

"Mark Sowerby and Claus Hennerberg. Honest Germans--men who have played
here for years."

"And who followed them? Who came next on the scene?"

"Some people from the lobby. They heard the disturbance and rushed up
pell-mell. But not one of these touched her. Later her father came."

"Who did touch her? Anybody, before the father came in?"

"Yes; Miss Clarke, the middle-aged lady with the Parrishes. She had run
towards Miss Challoner as soon as she heard her fall, and was sitting
there with the dead girl's head in her lap when the musicians showed
themselves."

"I suppose she has been carefully questioned?"

"Very, I should say."

"And she speaks of no weapon?"

"No. Neither she nor any one else at that moment suspected murder or
even a violent death. All thought it a natural one--sudden, but the
result of some secret disease."

"Father and all?"

"Yes."

"But the blood? Surely there must have been some show of blood?"

"They say not. No one noticed any. Not till the doctor came--her doctor
who was happily in his office in this very building. He saw the drops,
and uttered the first suggestion of murder."

"How long after was this? Is there any one who has ventured to make an
estimate of the number of minutes which elapsed from the time she fell,
to the moment when the doctor first raised the cry of murder?"

"Yes. Mr. Slater, the assistant manager, who was in the lobby at the
time, says that ten minutes at least must h