elling the
truth, and very much against his will. I had always rather prided
myself upon my judgment of human nature--had I erred so egregiously in
this instance? "The woman who was with Holladay wore a gown of dark
green." Who was the writer of the note? How did he know the color of
her gown? There was only one possible way he could know--he knew the
woman. Plainly, too, he must have been present at the morning hearing.
But if he knew so much, why did he not himself come forward? To this,
too, there was but one answer--he must be an accomplice. But then,
again, if he were an accomplice, why should he imperil himself by
writing this note, for it could very probably be traced? I found
myself deeper in the mire, farther from the light, at every step.

"Do you wish to summon any witnesses, Mr. Royce?" asked the coroner
again. "I shall be glad to adjourn the hearing until to-morrow if you
do."

Mr. Royce roused himself with an effort.

"Thank you, sir," he said. "I may ask you to do that later on. Just at
present, I wish to recall Mr. Rogers."

"Very well," said the coroner, and Rogers was summoned from the
witness room.

I looked at him attentively, trying to fathom his thoughts, to read
behind his eyes; but look as I might, I could see nothing in his face
save concern and grief. He had grown gray in Holladay's office; he had
proved himself, a hundred times, a man to be relied on; he had every
reason to feel affection and gratitude toward his employer, and I was
certain that he felt both; he received a liberal salary, I knew, and
was comfortably well-to-do.

That he himself could have committed the crime or been concerned in it
in any way was absolutely unthinkable. Yet why should he lie? Above
all, why should he seek to implicate his employer's daughter? Even if
he wished to implicate her, how could he have known the color of her
gown? What dark, intricate problem was this that confronted us?

In the moment that followed, I saw that Mr. Royce was studying him,
too, was straining to find a ray of light for guidance. If we failed
now----

I read the note through again--"a gown of dark green"--and suddenly,
by a kind of clairvoyance, the solution of the mystery leaped forth
from it. I leaned over to my chief, trembling with eagerness.

"Mr. Royce," I whispered hoarsely, "I believe I've solved the puzzle.
Hold Rogers on the stand a few moments until I get back."

He looked up at me astonished; then nodded, as I s