e
law--if he's done anything."

"Well," said Ware, beginning to walk, "this Walter Franklin--to give him
his real name--has committed murder. I am more convinced than ever that
he is the guilty person. But I don't see what he has to do with Anne.
Her father is certainly dead--died at Florence. Ha! Morley. Franklin
comes from Florence. He may know--he may have heard."

Morley nodded. "You're quite right, Ware. I'll ask him about the matter.
Humph!" The ex-detective stopped for a moment. "This involuntary
confession clears George Franklin."

"Yes. He is innocent enough."

"Well, but he inherited the money," said Morley. "It's queer that his
brother, according to you, should have killed the girl who kept the
fortune from him."

"It is strange. But it might be that Walter Franklin intended to play
the part of his brother and get the money, counting on the resemblance
between them."

"That's true enough. Yet if George were in Italy and within hail, so to
speak, I don't see how that would have done. Why not come to The Elms
with me and speak to Franklin yourself? He will be waiting for me
there."

"No," answered Ware after some thought, "he evidently intends to trust
you, and if I come he may hold his tongue. You draw him out, Morley, and
then you can tell me. Mrs. Benker----"

"I'll say nothing about her. I am not supposed to know that she is a
visitor to Rickwell. He'll suspect our game if I chatter about her,
Ware. We must be cautious. This is a difficult skein to unravel."

"It is that," assented Giles dolefully, "and we're no further on with it
than we were before."

"Nonsense, man. We have found out Wilson's real name."

"Well, that is something certainly, and his brother may be able to put
us on his track. If he asks about Mrs. Benker, say that she is a friend
of my housekeeper. You can say you heard it from your wife."

"I'll say no more than is necessary," replied Morley cunningly. "I
learned in my detective days to keep a shut mouth. Well, I'll be off and
see what I can get out of him."

When Morley departed at his fast little trot--he got over the ground
quickly for so small a man--Giles wandered about the Priory park. He
thought that he might meet with the daughter, and see what kind of a
person she was. If weak in the head, as Mrs. Parry declared her to be,
she might chatter about her Uncle Walter. Giles wished to find out all
he could about that scamp. He was beginning to feel afraid for Anne, a