e
three--Mahr, Gard and Mrs. Marteen.

Brencherly, alone in Gard's library, rose and paced the room, glancing
at the desk clock every time his line of march took him past the table.
His employer was coming home fast as steam could bring him. He longed
for his arrival and the council of war that must ensue; longed to be
relieved of the tedium of room-tied waiting. He no longer looked for any
communication from Mrs. Marteen. She had her reasons for concealment, no
doubt, and he felt assured that neither hospital nor morgue would yield
her up. It was with genuine delight that he at last heard the familiar
voice on the telephone, though it was but a hurried inquiry for news.

Half an hour later, haggard and worn beyond belief, Gard hurried into
the library and held out his hand.

The young man looked at his face in astonishment as Gard threw himself
into the chair and turned toward him.

"You'll pardon me," he faltered. "There's nothing that can't wait, and
you need rest, sir."

"Not till I can get it without nightmares," he snapped. "Now give me
this Mahr affair--all of it. I've seen the papers, of course, but I
imagine you have the inside; then I want to hear what you think."

The detective gave a start and colored to the roots of his hair. No
doubt about it, Gard was a great man, if he could meet such a situation
in such a manner and get away with it.

"Well, sir, the papers have it straight enough this time, as it happens.
There's nothing different."

"What was the weapon?"

"A stiletto paper cutter, that he always had on his table. It had a top
like a fencing foil; in fact, that's what it was in miniature, except
that it was edged. It was that top, flattened close down, that stopped
any flow of blood, so that everyone thought at first it was the blow on
the temple that killed him. There's this about it, though: I'm told they
say he was stunned first and stabbed afterward. That doesn't look like
the work of a common thief, does it?"

His hearer could not control a shudder. "Why not?" he parried. "He may
have known the knockout was only temporary, and he was afraid he'd come
to; or the man might have been known to Mahr, and he'd recognized him."

Brencherly shook his head incredulously.

"And the woman? What description did the servants give?" There was a
perceptible pause before he asked the question.

"The woman? The description is pretty vague--dressed in black, a heavy
veil, black gloves; nothing extr