It wasn't my job! Nature
hadn't made me for a fat, tame life. But young Marcel wasn't as much use
as an understudy for a dutiful son as I'd once hoped. So I made up my
mind to stick it while father lived and wanted me."

I don't know just how long Peter was in the "treadmill"--as he called
it: two years, perhaps, then came Justin Stanislaws' sudden death. The
old man was found by his valet one morning, lying dead on the marble
floor of his gorgeous bedroom, with a wound at the back of his head, and
a handkerchief marked "M.M." clutched in his hand. The wall safe where
he kept his most precious treasures--photographs of his dead wife, her
letters, and the favourite jewels which she had left for "Pietro's
bride"--was open, the key was still in the lock, and the steel box
containing the jewels had disappeared. Young Marcel Moncourt had also
disappeared; and this was serious, because he had come to visit his
father and had vainly begged for the loan of five thousand dollars from
Justin Stanislaws.

You will wonder when you read this why Peter didn't set the police on
Marcel's track, instead of doing all he could not only to protect him
but to upset the theory of murder. But you see, in spite of the
circumstantial evidence, Peter didn't believe that his father had been
killed by Marcel or any one. The doctors said that the wound at the back
of the head could quite well be the result of the fall; and that death
might have been caused by heart failure. As for the handkerchief, Marcel
Senior assured Peter that he and young Marcel used the same monogram:
also that more than once his handkerchiefs and Justin Stanislaws' had
been mixed together by the laundress, as they were of exactly the same
size and quality, differing only in initials. He pleaded that the
handkerchief was no clue, and no proof of a crime. He argued that the
old man was a poor sleeper, and often unlocked the safe in the night, to
look over the beloved letters and photographs. For that purpose he kept
his bunch of keys under his pillow; and as for the absence of the
jewels, that proved nothing because he--Marcel Senior--had himself
warned Stanislaws that it was imprudent to have them there. Several
other hiding-places, more secure and more secret, existed in the house;
and some day, it was his opinion, the steel box might eventually be
found in one of them, placed there by Stanislaws.

Peter listened, and pitied, and his own heart spoke for both Marcels. He