you've a list of all the people who came in
last night?"

"They would all register," answered the manager. "But then, you
know, sir, many of them will be going this morning--most of them are
only breaking their journey. You can look over the register whenever
you like."

"Later on," said Allerdyke. "In the meantime, I'll examine these things.
Send me up some coffee as soon as your people are stirring."

He unlocked the hand-bag when the manager had left him. It seemed to his
practical and methodical mind that his first duty was to make himself
thoroughly acquainted with the various personal effects which he and
Gaffney had found on the dead man. Of the valuables he took little
notice; it was very evident, in his opinion, that if James Allerdyke's
death had been brought about by some sort of foul play--a suspicion which
had instantly crossed his mind as soon as he discovered that his cousin
was dead--the object of his destroyer had not been robbery. James had
always been accustomed to carrying a considerable sum of money on him;
Gaffney's search had brought a considerable sum to light. James also wore
a very valuable watch and chain and two fine diamond rings; there they
all were. Not robbery--no; at least, not robbery of the ordinary sort.
But--had there been robbery of another, a bigger, a subtle, and
deep-designed sort? James was a man of many affairs and schemes--he might
have had valuable securities, papers relating to designs, papers
containing secrets of great moment; he was interested, for example, in
several patents--he might have had documents pertinent to some affair of
such importance that ill-disposed folk, eager to seize them, might have
murdered him in order to gain possession of them. There were many
possibilities, and there was always--to Allerdyke's mind--the
improbability that James had died through sudden illness.

Now that Marshall Allerdyke's mind was clearing, getting free of the
first effects of the sudden shock of finding his cousin dead, doubt and
uneasiness as to the whole episode were rising strongly within him. He
and James had been brought up together; they had never been apart from
each other for more than a few months at a time during thirty-five years,
and he flattered himself that he knew James as well as any man of James's
acquaintance. He could not remember that his cousin had ever made any
complaint of illness or indisposition; he had certainly never had any
serious sickness in h