described in detail the rifling of the drawers, the partially open
window; he had picked up a small gold link, evidently torn from the
sleeve buttons of the deceased. Mr. Mahr was last seen alive by his
friend, Marcus Gard, who called to see him on important business before
taking his departure to Washington. Just prior to this, however, a
strange woman, heavily veiled, had sent in a note and been admitted to
Mr. Mahr. This woman was not seen to leave the house; in fact, the
servant had supposed her present when Mr. Gard called, and a party to
the business under discussion; it was now believed that she might have
remained concealed in the outer room until after the great financier had
taken his departure. Of this, however, there was no present evidence.
Mahr had dismissed the butler and told him to lock up--yet the woman had
not been seen to leave. Of course she could have let herself out, or Mr.
Mahr could have opened the door for her--no one seemed to recall whether
the chain was on in the morning or not.

Was the crime one of anger or revenge? Why, then, the robbery? The
appearance of the table drawers would seem to indicate someone in search
of papers, yet the dead man's valuables appeared to have been removed by
force--the cuff link had been broken, the watch snatched from its pocket
with such violence that the cloth had been torn. At present the mystery
that surrounded the crime was impenetrable. The dead man's son was
prostrated with grief.

Gard finished reading and rose, crushing the paper in his hand. "It's a
horrible thing--horrible! I hope you gentlemen will excuse me. I am not
well, and this--has affected me--unaccountably." He turned to his
stateroom. "I'm going to rest, if I can."

The two men looked at each other in deep concern.