This was an opening for further conjecture as to the murderer,
and I said: "But the man who killed him must have been his
enemy."

"Yes, sir; but I mean no enemy that anybody knew of. It must
have been some burglar or intruder."

Though I wanted to learn such facts as the coachman might know,
his opinions did not interest me, and I again turned my attention
to the beautiful residences we were passing.

"That place over there," the man went on, pointing with his whip,
"is Mr. Philip Crawford's house--the brother of my master, sir.
Them red towers, sticking up through the trees, is the house of
Mr. Lemuel Porter, a great friend of both the Crawford brothers.
Next, on the left, is the home of Horace Hamilton, the great
electrician. Oh, Sedgwick is full of well-known men, sir, but
Joseph Crawford was king of this town. Nobody'll deny that."

I knew of Mr. Crawford's high standing in the city, and now,
learning of his local preeminence, I began to think I was about
to engage in what would probably be a very important case.




II

THE CRAWFORD HOUSE