bring one for yourself."

"Very good, sir," and a few minutes later we were sitting opposite
each other in the room where Vantine had offered me similar
refreshment not many hours before. I looked at Parks as he sat there,
and turned over in my mind what I had to say to him. I liked the man,
and I felt he could be trusted. At any rate, I had to take the risk.

"Now, Parks," I began again, setting down my glass, "what I have to
say to you is very serious, and I want you to keep it to yourself: I
know that you were devoted to Mr. Vantine--I may as well tell you
that he has remembered you in his will--and I am sure you are willing
to do anything in your power to help solve the mystery of his death."

"That I am, sir," Parks agreed, warmly. "I was very fond of him, sir;
nobody will miss him more than I will."

I realised that the tragedy meant far more to Parks than it did even
to me, for he had lost not only a friend, but a means of livelihood,
and I looked at him with heightened sympathy.

"I know how you feel," I said, "and I am counting on you to help me.
I have a sort of idea how his death came about. Only the vaguest
possible idea," I added hastily, as his eyes widened with interest;
"altogether too vague to be put into words. But I can say this much
--the mystery, whatever it is, is in the ante-room where the bodies
were found, or in the room next to it where the furniture is. Now, I
am going to lock up those rooms, and I want you to see that nobody
enters them without your knowledge."

"Not very likely that anybody will want to enter them, sir," and
Parks laughed a grim little laugh.

"I am not so sure of that," I dissented, speaking very seriously. "In
fact, I am of the opinion that there _is_ somebody who wants to enter
those rooms very badly. I don't know who he is, and I don't know what
he is after; but I am going to make it your business to keep him out,
and to capture him if you catch him trying to get in."

"Trust me for that, sir," said Parks promptly. "What is it you want
me to do?"

"I want you to put a cot in the hallway outside the door of the
ante-room and sleep there to-night. To-morrow I will decide what further
precautions are necessary."

"Very good, sir," said Parks. "I'll get the cot up at once."

"There is one thing more," I went on. "I have given the coroner my
personal assurance that none of the servants will leave the house
until after the inquest. I suppose I can rely on them?"