rested
in any woman since the death of his wife. He has always seemed devoted
to her memory, and as one of his nearest friends, I think I would have
known if he had formed any other attachment. Of course, in a matter
like this, a man may well have a secret from his nearest friends, but
I cannot think this mild and gentle-looking lady is at all concerned in
the tragedy."

As a matter of fact, I agreed with Mr. Porter, for nothing I had
discovered among the late Mr. Crawford's effects led me to think he had
any secret romance.

After Mr. Porter's departure I studied long over my puzzles, and I came
to the conclusion that I could do little more until I should hear from
headquarters.

XV. THE PHOTOGRAPH EXPLAINED

That evening I went to see Philip Crawford. As one of the executors of
his late brother's estate, and as probable heir to the same, he was an
important personage just now.

He seemed glad to see me, and glad to discuss ways and means of running
down the assassin. Like Mr. Porter, he attached little importance to the
gold bag.

"I can't help thinking it belongs to Florence," he said. "I know the
girl so well, and I know that her horrified fear of being in any way
connected with the tragedy might easily lead her to, disown her own
property, thinking the occasion justified the untruth. That girl has
no more guilty knowledge of Joseph's death than I have, and that is
absolutely none. I tell you frankly, Mr. Burroughs, I haven't even a
glimmer of a suspicion of any one. I can't think of an enemy my brother
had; he was the most easy-going of men. I never knew him to quarrel with
anybody. So I trust that you, with your detective talent, can at least
find a clue to lead us in the right direction."

"You don't admit the gold bag as a clue, then?" I asked.

"Nonsense! No! If that were a clue, it would point to some woman who
came secretly at night to visit Joseph. My brother was not that sort
of man, sir. He had no feminine acquaintances that were unknown to his
relatives."

"That is, you suppose so."

"I know it! We have been brothers for sixty years or more, and whatever
Joseph's faults, they did not lie in that direction. No, sir; if that
bag is not Florence's, then there is some other rational and commonplace
explanation of its presence there."

"I'm glad to hear you speak so positively, Mr. Crawford, as to your
brother's feminine acquaintances. And in connection with the subject, I
would like to