When Ranleigh departed, after hearing a detailed account of the evening’s doings at the hotel, Harleston sat for a little while thinking; finally he drew over a pad and made a list of things that required explanation, or seemed to require explanation, at the present stage of the matter: 

“(1) The translation of the cipher letter.  This should explain Madeline Spencer’s connection with the affair.

“(2) Did the following persons, incidents, or circumstances have any bearing on the affair.

“(a) The lone and handsome woman, who left the Collingwood at three that morning.

“(b) The note ‘a l’aube du jour’ (signed) ‘M,’ found in Crenshaw’s pocket.

“(c) The telephone call of the Chartrand apartment at 12:52 A.M., by a man who said that he was ‘here’ and to meet him at 10 A.M.

“(d) The persons in the Chartrand apartment the previous night.

“(e) After 1 P.M. no one entered the Collingwood by the usual way, and no one telephoned; how, therefore, did anyone in the Collingwood know of the incident of the cab, and of my connection with it.

“(f) Who is Mrs. Winton of the Burlingame apartments?

“(g) Why was she in Peacock Alley, wearing black and red roses, at five o’clock this afternoon?”

Harleston read over the list, folded it, and put it in his pocket-book; then he went to bed.  There was plenty for him to seek, in regard to the affair of the cab of the sleeping horse, but nothing more for the Spencer gang to inspect in his apartment.  Crenshaw had made a thorough job of his investigation.

In the morning he took out the list and went over it again.  They all were dependent on the translation of the letter; if it did not show that the United States was concerned in the matter, the rest became merely of academic interest—­and Harleston had little inclination and no time for things academic.  The difficulty was, that until the key to the cipher was found nothing was academic which appeared to have any bearing on the affair.

So he sent for the manager of the Collingwood, and asked as to the Chartrands.  The manager’s information, which was definite if not extensive, was to the effect that the Chartrands were people of means from Denver, with excellent social position there, and with connections in Washington.  They had been tenants of the Collingwood less than a week, having sublet the Dryand apartment.  It was a large apartment.  Mr. Chartrand was possibly forty-five, his wife thirty-eight or forty and exceedingly good-looking.  There was, of course, no record kept of their visitors, nor did the house know who they were entertaining the previous evening.  He was entirely sure, however, that the Chartrands were above suspicion.  Mrs. Chartrand was a blonde, petite and slender; Chartrand was tall and rather stout, with red hair, and a scar across his forehead.  As for the tall, slender woman who left the Collingwood at three in the morning, he did not recognize her from the description; he would, however, investigate at once.