jected,
fearing that they would again go back to the theory that Helen was
responsible.

"The holes in the foot-board seem to me positive proof that the shots
were fired from above," Simpson argued. "Are there any buildings or
trees along that road where the murderer might have stationed himself
and waited for Felderson to come along?"

"There are no buildings," I replied, "but there must be trees in the
vicinity of that stream."

"That sounds as though it might bring results," Simpson said.
"Thompson, suppose you take the coroner out there and see what you can
find. In the meantime I'll start proceedings to quash that indictment
against Mrs. Felderson."

The coroner insisted he was due at an inquest that very moment, but
would go with me in the afternoon. As we walked toward the cars,
Simpson asked me if I had found the papers dealing with Woods' case,
and I told him I thought Woods had stolen them and repeated the
information Wicks had given me.

"I don't think we shall need them, fortunately," Simpson replied.
"Todd saw Woods last night. He's making a frantic effort to raise
money and came to him, among others. He says that Woods can clear
himself of all connection with the crime. Men who were with him that
night can testify he didn't leave the club. By the way, Woods hasn't
approached you, has he?"

"No," I laughed, "he knows I have no money, and if I had I wouldn't
give it to him."

After they had left, I decided to go out to the Blandesville bridge and
do a little preliminary scouting on my own. Eager for Mary's company,
and wishing to tell her the glorious news that was to clear Helen, I
drove to the hospital, only to find that Mary had not been there and
Helen was asleep; so I drove on to Mary's, hoping to find her home.

"Miss Pendleton is just going out, but I will ask if she will see you,"
the maid informed me.

I stepped into the living-room and picked up a magazine. As I took it
in my hand it fell open to a story entitled, "Who Murdered Merryvale?"
I looked at one of the illustrations and quickly laid the magazine
down, conscious that I'd never again read a mystery story built around
a tragic death. Then I heard Mary's light step pattering down the
stairs and turned to greet her. She was dressed in a smart,
semi-military costume which she had worn while a volunteer chauffeur
during the war, and she looked simply radiant.

"Mary, we've made certain discoveries which absolutely clear