of
the cipher letter?" Carpenter asked.

"Certainly!" said Harleston.

"Then I'll give you what I heard. It's not much, and it may be false;
it's for you to judge, in the light of all that you know concerning her,
whether or not it affects her credibility. Mrs. Clephane went with a
notoriously fast set in Paris, and her reputation was somewhat cloudy."

"I know of that," returned Harleston, "also that Clephane was a roue,
and generally an exceedingly rotten lot."

"Precisely--and her conduct as to him may be quite justifiable; yet
nevertheless it weakens her credibility; puts her story as to the letter
under suspicion. And there is one thing more: Clephane, you know, was
killed in an aeroplane smash. Did Mrs. Clephane tell you anything as to
it?"

"Merely referred to it."

"Well, at a dinner the night before, he effervesced that his wife had
repeatedly tried to poison him, and had told him only that evening that
she hoped the flight of the morrow would be his last, and that he would
fall so far it would be useless to dig for his remains. At the aviation
field the following day he appeared queer, and his friends urged him not
to try the flight; but he waved them aside, with the remark that maybe
Mrs. Clephane had drugged him and at last would win out. His fall came
a trifle later. Suspicion followed, of course."

"How do you know all this?" Harleston asked.

"From a man who was one of his intimates, and has reformed; and from
having myself been in the aviation field the day of the tragedy."

"You heard Clephane's remark?"

"I did."

"Hum!" said Harleston slowly. "A man of Clephane's habits will accuse
anyone of anything at certain times. As a matter of fact, I wouldn't
blame Mrs. Clephane, nor any other woman, for chucking such a husband
out of the boat. It's contrary to the Acts of Assembly in such cases
made and provided, but it's natural justice and amply justifiable."

"You don't credit it?" Carpenter asked.

"I can't. Moreover, didn't she change instantly her course of life and
disappear from the gay world?"

"I believe that is so."

"And hasn't she remained disappeared?"

Carpenter nodded.

"Then I'm inclined to give her the benefit of the doubt. I'll trust
her, until I've seen something to warrant distrust--bearing in mind,
however, what you have just told me, and the possibility of my being
mistaken. I reckon I can veer quickly enough if--"

The telephone rang. Carpenter picked up the rece