“Mr. Grafton?  Who is he?”

“Aaron Grafton, one of Colchester’s best and wealthiest citizens.  He owns the Emporium.”

“That big department store?”

“Yes.  He has built it up from a small establishment.  I have known him a number of years, and he knew Mrs. Darcy quite well.  He often has purchased diamonds here, though he is not married, and I don’t know that he is engaged—­rather late in life, too, for him to be considering that.”

“Oh, well, you never can tell,” and the colonel smiled.

“So that is Aaron Grafton!” he mused.  “Well, Mr. Grafton, in spite of the well known reputation you bear, I think you will stand a little watching.  I must not neglect the smallest clew in a case like this.  Yes, decidedly, I think you will bear watching!”

For at that moment the merchant, after another round of the store, seeking for something it seemed he could not find, turned and hurried out, a much-troubled look on his face.  Colonel Ashley followed.

CHAPTER VII

THE COLONEL IS SURPRISED

“This,” said Colonel Ashley to himself, as he glided rapidly along the street, “is very much like old times—­very much!  I never expected to do any shadowing again.  What’s that Walton says about man proposing and Providence disposing?  Or was it Walton?  I must look it up.  Meanwhile—­”

Continuing his musing, and with a satisfied smile on his face, a smile that might indicate that the colonel was not so very much averse to giving over his fishing for the time being to take up his profession once more, he followed Aaron Grafton as the merchant left the jewelry store.

“I wonder,” mused the colonel, “what his object was in coming to the Darcy place, and nosing around as he did?  There must have been some object.  A man such as he is doesn’t do things like that for fun.  And it wasn’t mere curiosity, either.  If it was, he’d have been at the place before, when the evidences of the crime were there to be stared at by those who care for such things.

“And that Aaron Grafton hasn’t been there since I was forced into this thing, I’m positive.  For I was forced into it,” grumbled the old detective.  “I just couldn’t resist the pleading of her eyes.  It isn’t the first time a man has made a fool of himself over a woman, and it won’t be the last.  But maybe I’ll make fools of some of these folks, instead of being made a fool of myself.  Fooled out of my fishing though.  By gad! that’s what I have been!

“But no matter.  I must see what friend Aaron is up to and what his little game is.  Of course, he may have been at the store the day of the murder—­before I arrived.  I must ask Darcy about that.  Poor lad, he’s in tough luck—­just when he ought to be thinking of getting married.  Well, I’ll do what I can.”

There were few tricks known to modern detectives of which Colonel Ashley was not master, among them being the ability to disguise himself—­not by clumsy beards and false moustaches, though he used them at times—­but by a few simple alterations to his face and carriage.