aginations to run wild. The story was what
is known, in the parlance of the newspaper world, as a "space-eater."
City editors turned their best men loose on it and devoted columns to
conjecture. There was little definite information upon which to base the
daily stories that were luridly hurled into type. Thus far Spike Walters,
driver of taxicab No. 92,381, was the only person under arrest, and only
those persons too lazy to exercise their minds were willing to believe
that Spike was guilty or that he knew more of the crime than he had told.

Carroll read each news story attentively. No wild theory of a pop-eyed
reporter, hungry for fact, was too absurd to receive his careful
attention. But they proved of little assistance. With the spot-light of
publicity blazing on the crime, the investigation seemed to have become
static. There was no forward movement; nothing save that in the brain of
David Carroll salient facts were being seized upon and meticulously
catalogued for future reference.

Cartwright and Reed, the plain-clothes men detailed to shadow William
Barker, reported nothing suspicious in that gentleman's movements. He
seemed to be making no effort to secure employment, but, on the other
hand, there was little of interest in what he did do. Again the stone
wall of negative action.

Barker spent his mornings in his boarding-house, apparently luxuriating
in long slumbers; he ate always at the same cheap restaurant; and his
afternoons and evenings were devoted largely to the science of eight-ball
pool at Kelly's place. There may have been significance in his loyalty to
Kelly's place; but if there was, it was too vague for Carroll to
consider. He merely remembered the fact that Barker was a steady patron
of the pool-room near the Union Station, and filed it away with his
other threads of information concerning the murder.

Carroll was frankly puzzled. The case differed widely from any other
with which he had ever come in contact. Usually there was an array of
persons upon whom suspicion could be justly thrown; a collection of
suspects from whom the investigator could take his choice, or from whom
he could extract facts which eventually might be used to corner the
guilty person. In the present case there was no one to whom he could
turn an accusing finger.

Of course, he was convinced that William Barker knew a great deal about
the crime and the events which preceded it; but Barker wouldn't talk--and
he, Carroll,