Of course costume played its part when needed, but the time had not yet come for that.  He was now following Grafton without the latter being aware of it—­no very difficult matter in a city the size of Colchester, and on one of its main streets.

“I think I want to know a little more about him,” mused the colonel.  “I’d like to have a talk with him, and see how he acts.  But I won’t chance that yet.  I’ll play ’possum for a while.”

Having followed his man to the latter’s store, and even inside it, where he made a trifling purchase, and having seen Mr. Grafton enter his private office, the detective paid a visit to Darcy in the jail.

“How is she, Colonel?” were the first words of the prisoner, when they were in the warden’s office with a detective from the prosecutor’s office seated a few chairs away.  It was only under such arrangements that visitors were allowed to see the jewelry worker.  “How is Amy?”

“Why, she’s very well, the last I saw of her.  But I came to talk about something else.”

“I suppose so.  This horrible affair.  But she still believes in me, doesn’t she?” he asked eagerly.

“As much so as I do, my boy!”

“Thank God for that!  I don’t know what I’d do if she went back on me!  I wouldn’t want to live!”

“Tush!  Nonsense!  Don’t get sentimental!”

“I can’t help it, Colonel.  But as long as Amy thinks I didn’t do this horrible thing—­and God knows I didn’t—­and as long as you believe in me—­why I can stand it.  Maybe it won’t be for long.”

“Well, there’s no use buoying you up with false hopes, Darcy.  You’ll probably be here all summer.”

“I shan’t mind if I’m proved innocent at last.”

“I hope we can manage that all right.”

“Then you do believe in me, Colonel?”

“Of course I do!  Otherwise, I wouldn’t take up your case.  Now don’t talk too much.  I want to ask you a few questions.  Answer them, and as briefly as possible.  I’ll get you out of here as soon as I can.  If I hadn’t been as slow as a carp I might have the right man here now in your place.”

“What do you mean, Colonel?”

“Eh?  What’s that?  Did I say anything?” and the detective seemed roused from a reverie, for he had spoken his last remarks in a low voice.

“You spoke about a carp—­the right man—­”

“Oh, I—­I was just thinking of something in Walton.  Never mind me.  It’s a bad habit I’ve been acquiring lately of thinking aloud.  Now to business!” and the colonel drew some papers from his pocket.

Darcy looked at his new friend in some surprise.  Certainly the colonel had spoken as though he might, at one time, have had a chance to get the “right man.”  Did that mean the real murderer?

Darcy shook his head.  His nerves were beginning to go back on him he feared.

“Do you know Aaron Grafton?” asked the colonel.