The warmth of the place was welcome to all of them, and in the comforting glow of a small grate fire, which nobly assisted the struggling furnace in its task of heating the spacious structure, Spike Walters seemed to lose much of the nervousness which he had exhibited since the discovery of the body.  Carroll warmed his hands at the blaze, and then addressed Leverage.

“How about this case, chief?”

“How about it?”

“You want me to butt in on it?”

“Want you?  Holy sufferin’ oysters!  Carroll, if you didn’t work on it, I’d brain you!  You’re the only man in the State who could—­”

“Soft-pedal the blarney,” grinned Carroll.  “And now—­the suit-case again.”

He dropped to his knees and opened the suit-case.  Garment by garment he emptied it, searching for some clue, some damning bit of evidence, which might explain the woman’s possession of the dead man’s belongings.  He found nothing.  It was evident that the grip had been carefully packed for a journey of several days at least; but it was a man’s suit-case, and its contents were exclusively masculine.

Carroll shrugged as he rose to his feet.  He turned toward Spike Walters and laid a gentle hand on the young man’s shoulder.

“Walters,” he said, “I want to let you know that I believe your story all the way through.  I think that Chief Leverage does, too—­how about it, chief?”

“Sounds all right to me.”

“But we’ve got to hold you for a while, my lad.  It’s tough, but you were the person found with the body, and we’ve naturally got to keep you in custody.  Understand?”

“Yes, sir.  It’s none too pleasant, but I guess it’s all right.”

“We’ll see that you’re made comfortable, and I hope we’ll be able to let you go within a day or so.”

He pressed a button, and turned Walters over to one of the officers on inside duty, with instructions to see that the young taxi-driver was afforded every courtesy and comfort, and was not treated as a criminal.  Spike turned at the door.

“I want to thank you—­”

“That’s all right, Spike!”

“You’re both mighty nice fellers—­especially you, Mr. Carroll.  I’m for you every time!”

Carroll blushed like a schoolgirl.  The door closed behind Walters, and Carroll faced Leverage.

“Next thing is the body, chief.”

“Want it up here?”

“If you please.”

An orderly was summoned, commands given, and within five minutes the body of the dead man was borne into the room and laid carefully on the couch.  Leverage glanced inquisitively at Carroll.

“Want the coroner?”

“Surely; and you might also call in the newspapermen.”

“Eh?  Reporters?”

“Yes.  I have a hunch, Leverage, that a great gob of sensational publicity, right now, will be of inestimable help.  Meanwhile let’s get busy before either the coroner or the reporters arrive.”