“And she engaged you just to find this other woman?”

“Yes; her lawyer and Percival Coolidge only laughed at her story.”

“But you believed it, sir?”

“Well, perhaps not at first altogether.  It seemed too strange and impossible.  I thought something must have got on her nerves and caused her to imagine things.  But the first night I remained out there gave me a shock.  I do not know whether I left my door unlocked, or whether a pass-key was used, but I woke up suddenly to discover a woman in the room.  I only had a glimpse of her, for she slipped out instantly, and disappeared down the hall; but it was moonlight and I would have sworn the intruder was Miss Natalie.  I asked her the next day.”

“And she denied being there?”

“Absolutely, and convinced me it was true.  There is no doubt in my mind, Sexton, but what she really is being impersonated by some one who resembles her most remarkably.  Who this person is I have not the remotest idea; nor what her real object can be.  Just at this moment, I am inclined to believe it has something to do with the Coolidge estate—­a criminal scheme of some kind, and that Percival Coolidge had connection with it.”

“I can hardly believe that, sir.”

“No doubt you find it difficult.  You told me yourself that had always been his room, the one I occupied.”

“Yes, sir.”

“That woman knew it; she came there to consult with him.”  He stopped suddenly.  “By Gad!  Sexton, maybe she came there to kill him.  I hadn’t thought of that.”

“It is too much for me, sir,” the other said soberly.  “I don’t know why any one should want to kill him.  But there’s got to be a reason somewhere.  Where was it the three of you went on Sunday in the runabout, Captain West?”

“To a house over in the factory district; some charity case that Coolidge was interested in—­the widow of one of his employees, I believe.”

“Did you see the people?”

“No, I didn’t go in; waited outside in the car; it was no affair of mine.  Why?” he asked in surprise.

“Because, sir, Miss Natalie seemed like a different person when she got back.  Not in looks, or nothing like that I don’t mean, but in the way she talked and acted.  Nothing suited her all the rest of the day.  You know how she was to you, sir.  Well she was just that snappy with all of us, even after we brought the body back to the house.  And she wouldn’t look at him, sir, not even after he was dressed proper and laid out.  She just went off up stairs, and stayed there; had a bit of toast an’ tea, an’ that’s all.”

“I hardly believe,” said West thoughtfully, “you can attribute her state of mind to anything that occurred on that trip.  Indeed she was in high spirits all the way home.”

“I can’t help that, sir,” Sexton insisted blindly.  “It was something that happened yesterday what set her wrong, an’ if I was you, sir, I’d find out what happened in that house first of all.  Could you find the place?”