urderer----"

"Oh, come, sir, that's going a bit too far!" ventured the mean-looking
little man who had come in with Caspian, and who had been growing more
and more restless as Ed piled up his accusations.

"Why, too far, when you told me yourself that one of his handkerchiefs
was found in my cousin's room the morning after the murder?"

"Well, you see, sir, there was never anything more than gossip to say it
_was_ a murder," persisted the little man. Turning anxiously to Jack, he
hurried to explain himself. "I was valet to the old gentleman at the
time of his death," he announced. "I'm an Englishman, as I think you
are, sir. My name's Thomas Dawson. I've been living in Chicago and
other cities of the Middle West since young Mr. Stanislaws (who was
drowned later) paid me off and let me go. This gentleman, the heir to
the estates, has had me looked up by a detective agency. I came to New
York willing enough; but I didn't come to accuse no one of murder,
whether I have any cause to remember them kindly or _not_!"

"You're not asked to accuse any one, you're asked to identify a man you
know," snapped Caspian. He, too, turned to Jack. "It's very annoying as
things have turned out, that Moncourt Senior didn't stop on at Kidd's
Pines after the fire instead of going to New York. He ought to be here
now, so we could confront him with----"

"Really, Caspian, I think 'confront' isn't the word to use in such a
tone and in connection with our Marcel," Jack admonished him.

"What, not the word when he has passed off his wretched son upon us as a
stranger, and let the fellow take a confidential situation with a rich
woman like Mrs. Shuster? She might have suffered the same fate as my
poor cousin. There's no excuse for such conduct. It's not weakness but
wickedness. The whole mystery of Marcel's taking up the job at Kidd's
Pines is explained by this impudent trick----"

"Hardly explained," objected Jack. "You haven't proved your point yet."

"What point haven't I proved?"

"That Mr. Storm is really Marcel Moncourt Junior."

"We came here to prove it, before every one concerned," blustered Ed.
"All I ask is to have him brought in."

"He'll bring himself very willingly!" I couldn't resist sticking in my
oar. "And Pat with him."

"I'll fetch my fiancee myself, if you please, Mrs. Winston," said
Caspian, at his most caddish.

I didn't intend to let him do that, but I was saved the trouble of a
dispute by the door opening an