the door!" Carroll snapped.

"Yes, but Mrs. Darcy may have slipped it back herself. She was down
first, though why, I can't say. She seldom came down ahead of me,
especially of late years. I generally opened the store. The clerks
report at eighty-thirty--there's some of 'em now."

More knockings had sounded on the front door, and the faces of two
young men peered in through the misty glass, the crowd having made a
lane for them on learning that they worked in the place of death.

"Let 'em in, sure!" assented Thong. "We got to talk to all of 'em!
Let 'em in!"

Darcy did so, Mulligan helping him keep back the crowd of curious ones.

"Here comes Miss Brill," said one of the men clerks to Darcy. "What's
the matter? Is Mrs. Darcy--?"

"Dead! Killed, I'm afraid! The store won't open to-day, but the
police want to see every one. Oh, Miss Brill, come in!" and he held
out his hand to the one young woman clerk, who drew back in horrified
fright as she saw the silent figure on the floor.

"Oh--Oh!" she gasped, and then she went into hysterics, adding to the
excitement and giving Mulligan a bad five minutes while he fought to
keep the crowd from surging in.

But when Miss Brill had been carried to a rear room and quieted, and
when the shades had been drawn to keep the curious ones from peering
in, the questioning of Darcy was resumed.

"Did you come directly down to the store from your room?" asked Thong.

"Yes. As soon as I awakened."

"Where is your room?"

"In the rear, on the second floor--the one next above. Mrs. Darcy has
her rooms in front. Then come those of her maid, Jane Metson. Sallie
Page sleeps on the top floor where the janitor's family lives, and he,
of course, sleeps up there also."

"I see," murmured Carroll. "Then you came downstairs and found Mrs.
Darcy lying here--dead?"

"I wasn't sure she was dead--"

"Oh, she was _dead_ all right," broke in Thong. "No question about
that. Did you hear anything?"

"Only the watch ticking in her hand. First I thought it was her heart
beating."

"No, I mean did you hear anything in the night?" went on the detective.
"Any queer noise? It's mighty funny if there was murder done and no
robbery. But of course she might have heard a noise if you didn't, and
she might have come down to find out what it was about. She might have
caught a burglar at work, and he may have killed her to get away. But
if it was a burglar it's funny you didn't he