ve the old man here if you want him," was that detective's blunt
reply. "I have nothing to say against your getting all the light you can
on this affair."

"Very good," returned Mr. Ferris. "You may give me his address before
you go."

"His address for to-night is Utica," observed Byrd. "He could be here
before morning, if you wanted him."

"I am in no such hurry as that," returned Mr. Ferris, and he sank again
into thought.

The detectives took advantage of his abstraction to utter a few private
condolences in each other's ears.

"So it seems we are to be laid on the shelf," whispered Hickory.

"Yes, for which let us be thankful," answered Byrd.

"Why? Are you getting tired of the affair?"

"Yes."

A humorous twinkle shone for a minute in Hickory's eye.

"Pooh!" said he, "it's just getting interesting."

"Opinions differ," quoth Byrd.

"Not much," retorted Hickory.

Something in the way he said this made Byrd look at him more intently.
He instantly changed his tone.

"Old fellow," said he, "you don't believe Miss Dare committed this crime
any more than I do."

A sly twinkle answered him from the detective's half-shut eye.

"All that talk of having seen through your disguise in the hut is just
nonsense on your part to cover up your real notion about it. What is
that notion, Hickory? Come, out with it; let us understand each other
thoroughly at last."

"Do I understand you?"

"You shall, when you tell me just what your convictions are in this
matter."

"Well, then," replied Hickory, with a short glance at Mr. Ferris, "I
believe (it's hard as pulling teeth to own it) that neither of them did
it: that she thought him guilty and he thought her so, but that in
reality the crime lies at the door of some third party totally
disconnected with either of them."

"Such as Gouverneur Hildreth?" whispered Byrd.

"Such--as--Gouverneur Hildreth," drawled Hickory.

The two detectives eyed each other, smiled, and turned with relieved
countenances toward the District Attorney. He was looking at them with
great earnestness.

"That is your joint opinion?" he remarked.

"It is mine," cried Hickory, bringing his fist down on the table with a
vim that made every individual article on it jump.

"It is and it is not mine," acquiesced Byrd, as the eye of Mr. Ferris
turned in his direction. "Mr. Mansell may be innocent--indeed, after
hearing Hickory's explanation of his conduct, I am ready to believe he
is--but