"What is this--a game? If I knew that I'd have your job, Mr. Carroll.
The dame killed him, all right; and when we find out how she did it, and
when, and how he got in and she got out, we'll have a whale of a story!"

"No theories as to the identity of this woman, have you?"

"Nary one. A chap like Warren--bachelor, unencumbered--is liable to know
a heap of 'em. From what you tell me of the tickets--from the fact that
she was going away with him, I sort of figure you might do a little
social investigating and discover what woman might have been going off
with him."

Eric Leverage had been listening intently. His mind, never swift to work,
yet worked surely. His big voice boomed into the conversation:

"Carroll?"

"Yes?"

"This young fellow says Miss Gresham's family didn't have no objections
to the marriage. It just occurred to me to ask him is he _sure_?"

The reporter flushed.

"Why, no, chief; not sure. You never can be sure about things like that;
but so far as the public knew--"

"That's it, exactly. How do we know, though, but what they were sore as a
pup over it, and just kept their traps closed because they didn't want