“Do you find anything?”

“Nothing by which to identify her.”

“Her purse?”

“It contains only a few pieces of silver.  No cards, nor so much as a scrap of paper.  Other than her purse, there is only a latchkey in her pocket, and a perfectly plain handkerchief.  Her identification must come later.”

“I guess we have missed nothing here,” nodded Nick.  “I’ll have just a word with Fogarty, and then we’ll go along.”

“What do you make of it, Detective Carter?” inquired the officer, as Nick approached.

“I am not prepared to say,” replied Nick, ignoring the startled glances of the several men who heard his name and now beheld the great detective for the first time.

“The girl is dead, sir, isn’t she?”

“Oh, yes; there is no doubt of that,” bowed Nick.  “It may be a case of heart failure.  You had better take the proper steps for the removal of the body.  This box and wrapping paper, however, I am going to take with me, and will be responsible for them.”

“All right, sir.”

“By the way, Fogarty, how long ago did you discover the body?”

“Scarce a minute before you came, sir.”

“Were you the first to see it?”

“I was, sir.”

“Had you seen the girl about here before during the afternoon?”

“No, sir.”

“Did you see anybody leaving here just before you arrived and discovered the body?”

“I did not, sir.”

“That’s all, Fogarty.  I’ll get any other particulars later.”

Thereupon, as Nick was about to turn away, a young man in the crowd came suddenly forth, and exclaimed: 

“One moment, Detective Carter, if you please!  I saw that girl, about half an hour ago, walking this way with a gentleman.”

Nick turned abruptly to the speaker.

“What is your name?” he asked.

“Tom Jenkins, sir.”

“And your address?”

“I live at the Hotel North, and am employed by Hentz Brothers, in Broad Street.”

“You say that you saw the girl walking this way with a gentleman?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did they appear to be on good terms?”

“Excellent, sir.  They were talking and laughing, and seemed to be enjoying themselves.”

“Do you know the girl’s name, or where she lives?”

“I do not, sir; nor anything about her.”

“Do you know anything about her companion, the gentleman you saw with her?”

For the bare fraction of a second Jenkins hesitated, as one might do who was loath to bring trouble upon another.  Then he replied, in faltering tones: 

“Well, yes, sir, I know the name of the man who was with her.”

“State it, please.”

“His name, sir, is Harry Boyden.”

Nick felt his blood start slightly, yet his countenance did not change by so much as a shadow.

He glanced at Chick, however, and the same thought was in the mind of each.