hed.

"In that case----" I began, and stopped.

"Well, in that case?"

"We must find some other way out," I concluded lamely.

"_Is_ there another way, Lester?" he demanded, wheeling round upon me
fiercely. "_Is_ there another way? If there is, I wish to God you'd
show it to me!"

"There must be!" I protested desperately, striving to convince myself.
"There must be; only, I fear, it will take some little time to find."

"And meanwhile, Miss Holladay will be remanded! Think what that will
mean to her, Lester!"

I had thought. I was desperate as he--but to find the flaw, the weak
spot in the chain, required, I felt, a better brain than mine. I was
lost in a whirlwind of perplexities.

"Well, we must do our best," he went on more calmly, after a moment.
"I haven't lost hope yet--chance often directs these things. Besides,
at worst, I think Miss Holladay will change her mind. Whatever her
secret, it were better to reveal it than to spend a single hour in the
Tombs. She simply _must_ change her mind! And thanks, Lester, for
your thoughtfulness. You've put new life into me."

I cleared away the debris of the lunch, and a few moments later the
room began to fill again. At last the coroner and district attorney
came in together, and the former rapped for order.

"The inquest will continue," he said, "with the examination of John
Brooks, Miss Holladay's coachman."

I can give his evidence in two words. His mistress had driven directly
down the avenue to Washington Square. There she had left the carriage,
bidding him wait for her, and had continued southward into the squalid
French quarter. He had lost sight of her in a moment, and had driven
slowly about for more than two hours before she reappeared. She had
ordered him to drive home as rapidly as he could, and he had not
stopped until he reached the house. Her gown? Yes, he had noticed that
it was a dark red. He had not seen her face, for it was veiled. No,
he had never before driven her to that locality.

Quaking at heart, I realized that only one person could extricate
Frances Holladay from the coil woven about her. If she persisted in
silence, there was no hope for her. But that she should still refuse
to speak was inconceivable, unless----

"That is all," said the coroner. "Will you cross-examine the witness,
Mr. Royce?"

My chief shook his head silently, and Brooks left the stand.

Again the coroner and Singleton whispered together.

"We will recall Mi