ng in my life, overcoming
difficulties. And there's no one really vitally interested but me--I was
the closest relative, except for his uncle, that Nealman had. I'm going
to find out the mystery of that lagoon! Perhaps, in finding it, I can
solve a lot of other problems too--perhaps the one you just mentioned.
Uncle Grover was kind to me, he gave me his protection and shelter--and
I'm going to know what killed him!"

I found myself staring into her blazing, determined eyes. She meant what
she said. The fire of a zealot was in her face. "Good Heavens, Edith!
That isn't work for a woman----"

"It's work for anybody, with a clear enough brain to see the truth, and
courage to prove it out----"

In some mysterious way her hands had got into mine. We were standing
face to face in the shadowed hall. "But promise me--you won't go into
danger!"

"I promise--that I'll take every precaution--to preserve myself."

CHAPTER XVII

As soon as daylight came the coroner held another inquest. Again the
occupants of the great manor house, black and white, were gathered in
the living-room, and the coroner called on each person in turn. Possible
suspects had been numerous in the case of Florey's death: in regard to
this second mystery they seemingly included almost every one in the
house.

I was able to state positively that Major Dell and Van Hope were in
their own rooms at the time, or such a short time afterward as to
preclude them from any possible connection with the crime. I had seen
the latter on his threshold: both of us had encountered Major Dell as he
emerged from his room, his trousers slipped on over his pajamas. The
court had to take each man's word in every other instance.

The coroner questioned Fargo particularly closely. I had testified that
we had met him, at the lower hallway, fully dressed, and evidently the
official attributed sinister importance to the fact. Fargo stood tightly
by his guns, however, testifying that he sat in the same chair in the
library from shortly after the dinner hour until he had heard the
scream.

"What was the nature of the scream, Mr. Fargo?" the coroner asked.

"It was very high and loud--I would say a very frantic scream."

"You would say it was a cry of agony? Like some one mortally wounded?"

"I wouldn't hardly think so."

"And why not?"

"I don't think a wounded man could have uttered that scream. It was too
loud and strong--given by a man whose strength was still