popular."

"With Colonel McIntyre?" Ferguson had hoped to surprise Kent with
the question, but his companion's expression did not alter.

"N-no, perhaps he was not over-popular with the colonel," he
admitted slowly. "What prompts the question, Ferguson?"

The detective hitched his chair nearer. "I'm going to lay all my
cards on the table," he announced. "I need advice and you are the
man to give it to me. Listen, Mr. Kent, this Jimmie Turnbull
masquerades as a burglar night before last at the McIntyre house,
is arrested, a charge brought against him for house-breaking by Miss
Helen McIntyre, and shortly after he dies -"

"From angina pectoris," finished Kent, as the detective paused.

"So Mr. Rochester contended," admitted Ferguson. "We'll let that
go for a minute. Now, when Miss McIntyre saw Turnbull's body, she
demanded an autopsy. Why?"

"To discover the cause of death," answered Kent quietly. "That is
obvious, Ferguson."

"Sure. And why did she wish to discover it?" He waited a brief
instant, then answered his own question. "Because Miss McIntyre
did not agree with Rochester that Turnbull had died from angina
pectoris - that is obvious, too. Now, what made her think that?"

"I am sure I don't know" - Kent's air of candor was unmistakable