to-night for the first time in his life."

"How'd he happen to come? Friend of Miss Van Allen?"

"He met her to-night for the first time. He came here with--" I
paused. It was so hard to know what to do. Steele had gone home, ought
I to implicate him?

"Go on--came here with whom? The truth, now."

"I usually speak the truth" I returned, shortly. "He came with Mr.
Norman Steele."

"Where is Mr. Steele?"

"He has gone. There were a great many people here, and, naturally,
some of them went away when this tragedy was discovered."

"Humph! Then, of course, the guilty party escaped. But we are getting
nowhere. Does nobody know anything of this man, but his name?"

Nobody did; but Ariadne piped up, "He was a delightful man. He told me
he was a great patron of art, and often bought pictures."

Paying little heed to her, the inspector was endeavoring to learn from
the dead man's property something more about him.

"No letters or papers," he said, disappointedly, as he turned out the
pockets. "Not unusual--in evening togs--but not even a card or
anything personal--looks queer--"