“Where was Mrs. Langmore at this time?”

“Nobody knew.  Alfred Bardon is a physician, and, thinking there might still be a spark of life in Mr. Langmore, did all he possibly could to resuscitate the gentleman.  The servant girl ran upstairs to find some drugs for him and in the upper hallway stumbled over the dead body of Mrs. Langmore.”

“And how had she died?”

“In the same manner as her husband.  This news of a double tragedy was too much for Margaret, and she fainted.  The others notified more of the neighbors and the police, and of course, the news spread like wildfire.  I was stopping at the Beechwood Hotel at the time and as soon as I heard of the tragedy, I jumped into an automobile that was handy and rode over.”

“Then you arrived at the house about as soon as the police?”

“A little before.”

“What did you see?”

“Just what I have told you.  The doctor had been trying to bring Mr. Langmore around but had suddenly been taken sick and could do nothing.”

“Humph, sick, eh?  Did he say what made him sick?”

“He did not know.  He thought it might be from leaning over the dead man, or from working in that position.  I think the sudden sickness frightened him a little.”

“When the police arrived what did they find of importance?”

“Nothing.”

“Had anything been stolen?”

“Nothing, so far as they could learn.”

“Of course, you must have known these folks pretty well to take such an interest.”

“I knew Mr. Langmore very well and I was acquainted with his wife.”

Adam Adams knit his brow for a moment and tapped lightly on his desk with his forefinger.

“Have the police any idea as to how the murderer got into the house and got out again?” he asked.

At this question Raymond Case’s face flushed.

“They do not think the murderer left the house,” he answered in a low tone.

CHAPTER II

LOVE UNDER A SHADOW

Raymond Case dropped back into his chair and buried his face in his hands.  Adam Adams eyed him curiously and with something of a fatherly glance.

“It is plain to see what his trouble is,” thought the detective.  “He is in love.”

He was right, Raymond Case was furiously, desperately, hopelessly in love.  He had met Margaret Langmore at Bar Harbor but a few short weeks before, and it had been a case of love at first sight upon both sides.  A few automobile rides and a few dances, and he had proposed and been accepted, and he had counted himself the happiest man in all this wide world.  And now—­

“Then they suspect the servant girl?” queried Adam Adams, knowing they did nothing of the sort.

“No!” came sharply.  “They suspect Margaret—­Miss Langmore.”

“Ah!”

“Yes.  It is—­is preposterous—­absurd, but they insist.  And that is what has brought me to you.  I want to prove her innocence to the world.  Do that, and you can name your own price, Mr. Adams.”