, because I have a
few friends there," she said. "But I am studying music, and when my
mother died, father suggested that I live in Chicago where I could
attend a better musical college. Then, too, father could get home
more often as he travels in this vicinity."

"I suppose your father travels for some well known St. Louis house?"
suggested Morgan.

"Well, really, I don't know the name of his firm," returned the
girl. "Business has never held any interest for me."

It struck Morgan as strange that even a girl who did not take an
interest in business should be ignorant of the name of the firm by
whom her father was employed, yet he seemed to find many things that
were contradictory in this girl. The chatty line of conversation he
had taken was bringing out information in a manner highly
satisfactory to Morgan. He was about to make another comment, that
might elicit further facts, when he was interrupted by a question
which he had been expecting.

"Tell me," inquired Miss Atwood, a slight color coming to her
cheeks, "what this man Marsh said about me."

Morgan was pleased. This gave him an opening for some questioning
which he had hesitated to take up before. He wanted to know just how
much this girl knew about Marsh. "Don't you really know Mr. Marsh?"
he began.

"No," she replied. "I didn't even know there was such a person in
the house."

"Well, that is certainly strange. I'm sure that he told me to talk
to the young lady on the top floor. Perhaps he meant some young lady
who lived across the hall. Still, there doesn't seem to have been
anyone there since the trouble."

Miss Atwood smiled. "He could not have meant anyone in that
apartment, for I understand it is occupied only by an elderly
couple, a Mr. Ames and his wife. I understood father to say that he
had heard they were traveling in Europe. I am sure no one has lived
there since we have been in this apartment."

"How long have you been here?" asked Morgan.

"Let me see," said Miss Atwood, thoughtfully. "This is almost the
end of October, and we have been here since the middle of July. That
is a little over three months, isn't it?"

"July," repeated Morgan. "That isn't a renting season. You must rent
this apartment furnished."

"We do," she replied, promptly. "Father was too busy to spend any
time on moving, so we stored our things in St. Louis and took this
apartment."

"Real estate agents have been making lots of money these days. I
hear a gr