Pendleton wrinkled his brow.

“Now what the deuce can it mean,” he asked, vexedly.  “Not only what did the fellow mean who did this, but what did he mean,” pointing at the dead man, “by having so many portraits of General Wayne?”

“I think something might be found to point the way if we could only look for it,” said Ashton-Kirk, his face alight with eagerness.  “But we’ll have to await the coroner’s people.”

“When will they come?”

The investigator shrugged his shoulders.

“Probably not for hours,” he answered.  “However, as the coroner himself appears to be new in the office, he may be more anxious to get his work over with than the usual official.  In the mean time we’d better go down and have a talk with Osborne.  If I remain here I’ll succumb to temptation, go rummaging about and so get myself into trouble.”

He turned the knob of the door with the ground glass panel; but it was fast.  They passed into the store room, and so out into the hall.

“Any signs of the people from the coroner’s office?” asked Ashton-Kirk of the policeman who stood there.

“Someone just drove up a minute ago,” answered the man.  “I hear him down there talking to Osborne now.”

Ashton-Kirk was about to go down when there came a tramping on the stairs.  The big figure of the headquarters detective was first; after him came a nervous, important looking young man and a stolid-faced old one.

With a large gesture Osborne laid his hand upon Ashton-Kirk’s shoulder.

“Mr. Stillman,” said he to the nervous looking young man, “this is Mr. Ashton-Kirk.  I guess you’ve heard of him.”

The important manner of the young coroner visibly increased as he held out his hand.

“I have heard of you frequently, sir,” he stated, firmly, “and I am quite delighted to meet you.  More especially, sir, at a time like this.”

“A very nasty looking affair,” returned the investigator.  “Osborne has been good enough to let me glance about,” in explanation.

“I trust,” said Stillman, “that you have disturbed nothing.”

“Except for gathering up a few scattered pictures in the bedroom, we have done nothing but look,” assured Ashton-Kirk.

“I find that the exact conditions must remain if we are to secure even a fairly good idea of the crime’s environments,” stated Stillman, nervously.  “It is a thing that I insist upon from the police in every instance.”

“Sure, sure,” said Osborne.  “Headquarters does its best never to make trouble for you, Mr. Stillman.”

The nervous young coroner seemed to be relieved to hear this.  He waved his hand in a gesture that might have meant anything and turned to the stolid looking, elderly man who accompanied them.  They conversed for a few moments; the stolid man seemed to be explaining something carefully, to which Stillman listened with the utmost attention.  Osborne bent his head toward Ashton-Kirk.