“It’s too early yet to tell, Shag, and you know I don’t make any predictions.  I want to get a few more facts.”

This the colonel proceeded to do.  First having had himself accredited as working in Darcy’s behalf by being introduced by the accused man’s lawyer, the detective paid a visit to the jewelry store.  The place was in charge of Thomas Kettridge, a half uncle to Mrs. Darcy.

The place had been opened for business again after the funeral, and customers came in, carefully avoiding the place where a dark stain could be seen in the floor—­a stain made all the more conspicuous because of the light-colored boards about it.

The colonel made a careful examination of the premises, and had described to him the exact position of the body, being told all that went on that tragic morning.

It was after this, and following some busy hours spent in various parts of the city, that the defective sent to one of his trusted men in New York this telegram: 

“Spotty Morgan’s vacation is over.  Have him spend a few days with you until I can invite him to my country place.”

“I hate to do it, after what he did for me,” mused the colonel with a sigh.  “But business is business from now on.  I’m officially in the case, and I wasn’t before.”

Having sent the somewhat cryptic message, the old detective sat in his room and took from his pocket a little green book.

“Well, old friend, I guess I’m not going to have much use for you from now on,” he remarked dolefully.  He glanced to where his rods and flies were gathering dust.  “Nor you, either,” he went on.  “Now for a last glimpse—­”

He opened the book and read: 

“And now I shall tell you that the fishing with a natural fly is excellent and affords much pleasure.”

“It won’t do!” ejaculated the colonel as he closed the book and threw it aside.

One matter puzzled the colonel as well as the other detectives.  There was no sign of the jewelry store having been entered from the outside, so that if a stranger had come in he must have done so when the doors were unlocked or made a false key, or else he had forced a passage so skilfully as to leave not a sign.

Of course this was possible, and it added to the inference of some that a burglar, used to such work, had entered the place, and, being detected at work by Mrs. Darcy, had killed her.

However, there was not so much as a cuff button missing, as far as could be learned after the contents of the store had been checked up, though of course an intruder might have been frightened off before he had taken anything.

Many of Darcy’s friends could not help but admit that appearances were against him.  He and his cousin had quarreled, somewhat bitterly, over money, and about his refusal to give up work on his electric lathe.  There was also King’s testimony about words over Amy, though Darcy contended that this talk was nothing more than his relative had indulged in before regarding the unsuitableness of the match.  Darcy admitted resenting his cousin’s imputation.