in."

"In a business way, yes. But you were there socially--where a murder
was committed--"

Aunt Lucy could have shown no more horror of it all, if I had been the
convicted criminal.

"And, I'm glad I was!" I cried, losing patience a little. "If I can be
of any help to the Schuyler people or to Miss Van Allen, I shall be
willing to do all I can.

"But Miss Van Allen is the--the murderer!" and Aunt Lucy whispered the
word.

"Don't say that!" I cried sharply. "You don't know it at all, and
there's no reason to condemn the girl--"

I paused. Bemis was taking in my every word with a canny understanding
of what I said, and also of what I didn't say.

"Where do your suspicions tend, Mr. Calhoun?" he said smoothly.

"Frankly, Mr. Bemis, I don't know. I am an acquaintance of Miss Van
Allen and I cannot reconcile the idea of crime with her happy, gentle
nature. Nor can I see any reason to suspect the waiter who first told
of the matter. But might not some person, some enemy of Mr. Schuyler,
have been secreted in the house--"

"A plausible theory," agreed Bemis, "even an obvious one, but almost