suffered accordingly. I had
found a cab unobtainable, and there was, of course, the inevitable jam
on the Elevated, with the trains many minutes behind the schedule. I
was some half-hour late, in consequence, and when I entered the inner
office, I was surprised to find Mr. Graham, our senior, already at his
desk. He nodded good-morning a little curtly.

"I wish you'd look over these papers in the Hurd case, Lester," he
said, and pushed them toward me.

I took them and sat down; and just then the outer door slammed with a
violence extremely unusual.

I had never seen Mr. Royce, our junior, so deeply shaken, so visibly
distracted, as he was when he burst in upon us a moment later, a
newspaper in his hand. Mr. Graham, startled by the noise of his
entrance, wheeled around from his desk and stared at him in
astonishment.

"Why, upon my word, John," he began, "you look all done up. What's the
matter?"

"Matter enough, sir!" and Mr. Royce spread out the paper on the desk
before him. "You haven't seen the morning papers, of course; well,
look at that!" and he indicated with a trembling finger the article
which occupied the first column of the first page--the place of
honor.

I saw our senior's face change as he read the headlines, and he seemed
positively horror-stricken as he ran rapidly through the story which
followed.

"Why, this is the most remarkable thing I ever read!" he burst out at
last.

"Remarkable!" cried the other. "Why, it's a damnable outrage, sir! The
idea that a gentle, cultured girl like Frances Holladay would
deliberately murder her own father--strike him down in cold blood--is
too monstrous, too absolutely preposterous, too--too----" and he
stopped, fairly choked by his emotion.

The words brought me upright in my chair. Frances Holladay accused
of--well!--no wonder our junior was upset!

But Mr. Graham was reading through the article again more carefully,
and while he nodded sympathetically to show that he fully assented to
the other's words, a straight, deep line of perplexity, which I had
come to recognize, formed between his eyebrows.

"Plainly," he said at last, "the whole case hinges on the evidence of
this man Rogers--Holladay's confidential clerk--and from what I know
of Rogers, I should say that he'd be the last man in the world to make
a willful misstatement. He says that Miss Holladay entered her
father's office late yesterday afternoon, stayed there ten minutes,
and then came o