Mr. Crawford's New York office by half-past
ten."

"A strange coincidence, Burroughs," said Fleming Stone, turning to me.

"Eh? Beg pardon?" said Hall, turning his head also.

"Mr. Hall," said Stone, suddenly facing him again, "are you deaf? Why do
you ask to have remarks repeated?"

Hall looked slightly apologetic. "I am a little deaf," he said; "but
only in one ear. And only at times--or, rather, it's worse at times. If
I have a cold, for instance."

"Or in damp weather?" said Stone. "Mr. Hall, I have questioned you
enough. I will now tell these gentlemen, since you refuse to do so,
where you were on the night of Mr. Crawford's murder. You were not in
West Sedgwick, or near it. You are absolutely innocent of the crime or
any part in it."

Gregory Hall straightened up perceptibly, like a man exonerated from all
blame. But he quailed again, as Fleming Stone, looking straight at him,
continued: "You left West Sedgwick at six that evening, as you have
said. You registered at the Metropolis Hotel, after learning that you
could not get a room at your club. And then--you went over to Brooklyn
to meet, or to call on, a young woman living in that borough. You took
her back to New York to the theatre or some such entertainment, and
afterward escorted her back to her home. The young woman wore a street
costume, by which I mean a cloth gown without a train. You did not have
a cab, but, after leaving the car, you walked for a rather long distance
in Brooklyn. It was raining, and you were both under one umbrella. Am I
correct, so far?"

At last Gregory Hall's calm was disturbed. He looked at Fleming Stone
as at a supernatural being. And small wonder. For the truth of Stone's
statements was evident from Hall's amazement at them.

"You--you saw us!" he gasped.

"No, I didn't see you; it is merely a matter of observation, deduction,
and memory. You recollect the muddy shoes?" he added, turning to me.

Did I recollect! Well, rather! And it certainly was a coincidence that
we had chanced to examine those shoes that morning at the hotel.

As for Mr. Randolph and the district attorney, they were quite as much
surprised as Hall.

"Can you prove this astonishing story, Mr. Stone?" asked Mr. Goodrich,
with an incredulous look.

"Oh, yes, in lots of ways," returned Stone. "For one thing, Mr. Hall has
in his pocket now a letter from the young lady. The whole matter is
of no great importance except as it proves Mr. Hall was not