of his last outburst. I confess that, for my part, I thought we were very deep in the mire.
The office-boy was called next, but added nothing to the story. He had gone to the chute to mail some letters; the woman must have entered the office while he was away. He saw her come out again, but, of course, did not see her face. He had been employed recently, and did not know Miss Holladay.
Then the physicians who had attended the dead man were called, and testified that the knife-blade had penetrated the left carotid artery, and that he had bled to death—was dead, indeed, before they reached him. It would take, perhaps, ten minutes to produce such an effusion of blood as Rogers had noticed—certainly more than five, so that the blow must have been struck before the woman left the inner office.
The policeman who had responded to the alarm testified that he had examined the windows, and that they were both bolted on the inside, precluding the possibility of anyone swinging down from above or clambering up from below. Nothing in the office had been disturbed. There was other evidence of an immaterial nature, and then Miss Holladay's maid was called.
"Was your mistress away from home yesterday afternoon?" asked the coroner.
"Yes, sir; she had the carriage ordered for three o'clock. She was driven away shortly after that."
"And what time did she return?"
"About six, sir; just in time to dress for dinner."
"Did you notice anything unusual in her demeanor when she returned?"
The maid hesitated, fearing doubtless that she might say too much.
"Miss Holladay had complained of a headache in the morning," she said, after a moment. "She was looking badly when she went out, and the drive made her worse instead of better. She seemed very nervous and ill. I advised her to lie down and not dress for dinner, but she would not listen. She always dined with her father, and did not wish to disappoint him. She was in a great hurry, fearing that he'd get back before she was ready."
"There's no doubt in your mind that she was really expecting him?"
"Oh, no, sir; she even went to the door to look for him when he did not come. She seemed very uneasy about him."
That was one point in our favor certainly.
"And when the news of her father's death reached her, how did she bear it?"
"She didn't bear it at all, sir," answered the maid, catching her breath to choke back a sob. "She fainted dead away. Afterwards, she seemed to be in a kind of daze till the doctor came."
"That is all. Have you any questions to ask the witness, Mr. Royce?"
"Only one," said my chief, leaning forward. I knew what it was, and held my breath, wondering whether it were wise to ask it. "Do you remember the gown your mistress wore yesterday afternoon?" he questioned.
"Oh, yes, sir," and the witness brightened. "It was a dark red broadcloth, made very plain, with only a little narrow black braid for trimming."
CHAPTER III
The Coil Tightens
From the breathless silence that followed her answer, she saw that she had somehow dealt her mistress a heavy blow, and the sobs burst out beyond control, choking her. I could see how my chief's face turned livid. He had driven another rivet in the chain—just the one it needed to hold it firmly together. My head was whirling. Could it be possible, after all, that this gentle, cultured girl was really such a fiend at heart that she could strike down. … I put the thought from me. It was monstrous, unbelievable!
The coroner and the district attorney were whispering together, and I saw the former glance from the blood-stained handkerchief on the desk before him to the sobbing woman on the stand. It needed only that—her identification of that square of cambric—to complete the evidence. He hesitated a moment, said another word or two to Singleton, then straightened up again in his chair. Perhaps he thought the chain was strong enough; perhaps he saw only that the witness was in no condition to go on.
"Anything further, Mr. Royce?" he asked.
"Not at present, sir," answered our junior hoarsely. I think he was just beginning fully to realize how desperate our case was.
"We will dismiss the witness, then, temporarily," said the coroner. "We shall probably recall her later on."
The maid was led back to the witness room on the verge of hysteria, and Goldberg looked over the papers on his desk.
"We have one more witness," he said at last, "Miss Holladay's coachman, and perhaps a little testimony in rebuttal. If you wish to adjourn for lunch, Mr. Royce, I'm quite ready to do so."
"Thank you, sir," said my chief, welcoming any opportunity to pull himself together and prepare a plan of defense. "I do wish it."
"Very well, then; we'll adjourn till two o'clock," and he pushed back his chair.
"May I have one word with you, sir?" asked Mr. Royce.
"Certainly."
"I should like to see Miss Holladay a few moments in private. We wish, of course, to arrange our rebuttal."
The coroner looked at him for a moment with eyes in which just a tinge of curiosity flickered.
"I'll be very glad to allow you to see her in private," he answered readily. "I regret greatly that we couldn't find you last night, so that you could have opportunity to prepare for this hearing. I feel that, in a way, we haven't been quite fair to you, though I don't see how delay could have altered matters, and, in a case of this kind, prompt action is important. I had no intention of placing Miss Holladay on the witness stand, so I thought it best to proceed at once with the inquest. You must admit, sir, that, as the case stands, there's only one course open to me."
"I fear so," assented the other sadly. "It's a most incomprehensible case. The chain of evidence seems absolutely complete, and yet I'm convinced—as every sane man must be—that there is in it some fatal flaw, which, once discovered, will send the whole structure tottering. It must be my business to find that flaw."
"Strange things happen in this world, Mr. Royce," observed Singleton with a philosophy born of experience.
"The impossible never happens, sir!" retorted our junior. "I hope to show you that this belongs in that category."
"Well, I hope you will," said the district attorney. "I'd be glad to find that someone else is guilty."
"I'll do my best," and Mr. Royce turned to me. "Lester, you'd better go and get some lunch. You look quite done up."
"Shall I bring you something?" I asked. "Or, better still, have a meal ready for you in half an hour? Rotin's is just around the corner."
He
