bolted. The lady heard the shots, and, rushing in, found Sir Horace in
his death agony. She was stooping over him with her handkerchief in her
hand, and in his convulsive moments he caught hold of a corner of it and
the handkerchief was torn. The lady left the place and on arrival home
concocted that letter which was sent here telling us that Sir Horace had
been murdered. Is that it?"

"Yes," assented Rolfe. "Of course, I don't lay it down that everything
happened just as you've said. But that's my idea of the crime. It
accounts for all the clues we've picked up, and that is something."

"It is an ingenious theory and it does you credit," said the inspector,
who had not forgotten that he had proposed to Rolfe that they should help
one another to the extent of taking one another fully into each other's
confidence, for the purpose of getting ahead of Crewe. "But you have
overlooked the fact that it is possible to account in another way for all
the clues we have picked up. Suppose Sir Horace's return from Scotland
was due to a message from a lady friend; suppose the lady went to see him
accompanied by a friend whom Sir Horace did not like--a friend of whom
Sir Horace was jealous. Suppose they asked for money--blackmail--and
there was a quarrel in which Sir Horace was shot. Then we have your idea
as to how the lady's handkerchief was torn--I agree with that in the
main. The lady and her friend fled from the place. Later in the night the
place is burgled by some one who has had his eye on it for some time, and
on entering the library he is astounded to find the dead body of the
owner. Suppose he went home, and on thinking things over sent the letter
to Scotland Yard with the idea that if the police got on to his tracks
about the burglary the fact that he had told us about the murder would
show he had nothing to do with killing Sir Horace."

"That is a good theory, too," said Rolfe, in a meditative tone. "And the
only person who can tell us which is the right one is Sir Horace's lady
friend. The problem is to find her."

"Right," said the inspector approvingly. "And while you have been making
inquiries at the shops about the handkerchief I have been down to the Law
Courts branch of the Equity Bank where Sir Horace kept his account. It
occurred to me that a look at Sir Horace's account might help us. You
know the sort of man he was--you know his weakness for the ladies. But he
was careful. I looked through his private paper