“About half past four, I should say; certainly no later than that.  I went there on a matter of business, to dispose of some bonds Mr. McBride had agreed to take off my hands; I was with him, maybe twenty minutes.”

“What were those bonds?”

“Local gas bonds.”

“How many were there in the lot you sold?”

“Five.”

“He paid you the money for them?”

“Yes, a thousand dollars.”

“Do you know, we haven’t unearthed those bonds yet?” said the doctor.

Moxlow frowned slightly.

“I suppose they were taken,” said North.

“But it will be a dangerous thing, to attempt to realize on them,” snapped Moxlow.

“Decidedly,” agreed North.

“You left McBride’s store at, say, five o’clock?” said Moxlow.

“Not later than that—­see here, Moxlow, what are you driving at?” demanded North, with some show of temper.

For an instant Moxlow hesitated, then he said: 

“The truth is, North, there is not a clue to go on, and we are thrashing this thing over in the hope that we may sooner or later hit on something that will be of service to us.”

“Oh, all right,” said North, with a return of good nature.

“During your interview with McBride you were not interrupted, no one came into the store?”

“No one; we were alone the entire time.”

“And you saw no one hanging about the place as you left it?”

“Not that I can remember; if I did it made no impression on me.”

“But didn’t you see Shrimplin?” asked Moxlow quickly.

“Oh, come, Moxlow, you can’t play the sleuth,—­that was afterward, you know it was!”

“Afterward—­”

“Yes, just as I was starting for the general’s place, fully an hour later.”

“In the meantime you had been where—­”

“From McBride’s store I went to my rooms.  I remained there until it was time to start for the Herberts’, and as I intended to walk out I started earlier than I otherwise should have done.”

“Then you were coming from your rooms when you met Shrimplin?”

“Yes, it was just six o’clock when I stopped to speak to him.”

“Shrimplin was the only person you met as you crossed the Square?”

“As far as I can remember now, I saw no one but Shrimp.”

“And just where did you meet him, North?” asked Moxlow.

“On the corner, near McBride’s store.”

“Do you know whether he had just driven into the Square or not?”

“No, I, don’t know that; it was snowing hard and I came upon him suddenly.”

“You continued on your way out of town after speaking with him, North?”

“Yes.”

“And later, at eleven o’clock, as you were returning to town you met a stranger, probably a countryman, you say, who told you that McBride had been murdered?”

“Yes, you have that all straight.”