"It is plain to see what his trouble is," thought the detective. "He
is in love."

He was right, Raymond Case was furiously, desperately, hopelessly in
love. He had met Margaret Langmore at Bar Harbor but a few short weeks
before, and it had been a case of love at first sight upon both sides.
A few automobile rides and a few dances, and he had proposed and been
accepted, and he had counted himself the happiest man in all this wide
world. And now--

"Then they suspect the servant girl?" queried Adam Adams, knowing they
did nothing of the sort.

"No!" came sharply. "They suspect Margaret--Miss Langmore."

"Ah!"

"Yes. It is--is preposterous--absurd, but they insist. And that is
what has brought me to you. I want to prove her innocence to the
world. Do that, and you can name your own price, Mr. Adams."

"You have a high regard for the young lady--you are close friends?"

"More. I may as well tell you, though so far Margaret and I have kept
the matter more or less a secret. I love her and we are engaged to be
married."

"Did Mr. Langmore know of his daughter's engagement?"

"He did, and he approved of it."

"And what of Mrs. Langmore, didn't she approve?"

"She did not know of it. Margaret did not tell her."

"Why not?"

"Because--well, the young lady and her stepmother did not get along
very well together. Margaret wanted to be friendly, but Mrs. Langmore
was very dictatorial, and besides she loved her own children better
than Mr. Langmore's."

"Let me ask, was the daughter on good terms with her father?"

"Yes, excepting on one point. He wished her to obey her stepmother and
that she was not always willing to do. This brought on a run of petty
quarrels which fairly made Margaret sick."

"And this is the reason why the police think Miss Langmore the guilty
person?"

"It is. Their theory is that she first quarrelled with her stepmother
and murdered her, and then struck down her father to cover her guilt,
he having discovered what she was doing."

"How old is Miss Langmore?"

"She has just passed her twenty-third birthday."

"Humph! Rather young to commit such a cold-blooded crime as this."

"She never did do it--I'll wager my life on it! Oh, it's
absurd--insulting! But what are you going to do with a lot of
pig-headed country police--"

"How did they come to suspect her? Was there nothing else?"

"Yes, there was. Mrs. Bardon, the woman who lives next door, is a
great gossip