The old man stroked his silken white hair.  At times his mind was a little hazy.  There were moments when a slight fog seemed to descend upon it.  His memory in recent years had been quite treacherous.  Not long since he had forgotten to attend a funeral at which he was to conduct the services.

“I dare say I did marry your friend.  A good many young people come to me.  The license clerk at the court is very kind.  He sends them here.”

“The man’s name was Cunningham—­James Cunningham,” Kirby prompted.

“Cunningham—­Cunningham!  Seems to me I did marry a man by that name.  Come to think of it I’m sure I did.  To a beautiful young woman,” the old preacher said.

“Do you recall her name?  I mean her maiden name,” Rose said, excitement drumming in her veins.

“No-o.  I don’t seem quite to remember it.  But she was a charming young woman—­very attractive, I might say.  My wife and daughter mentioned it afterward.”

“May I ask if Mrs. Rankin and your daughter are at present in the house?” asked Lane.

“Unfortunately, no.  They have gone to spend a few days visiting in Idaho Springs.  If they were here they could reenforce any gaps in my memory, which is not all it once was.”  The Reverend Nicodemus smiled apologetically.

“Was her name Esther McLean?” asked Rose eagerly.

The old parson brought his mind back to the subject with a visible effort.  “Oh, yes!  The young lady who was married to your friend—­” He paused, at a loss for the name.

“—­Cunningham,” Kirby supplied.

“Quite so—­Cunningham.  Well, it might have been McLeod.  I—­I rather think it did sound like that.”

“McLean.  Miss Esther McLean,” corrected the cattleman patiently.

“The fact is I’m not sure about the young lady’s name.  Mother and Ellen would know.  I’m sorry they’re not here.  They talked afterward about how pleasant the young lady was.”

“Was she fair or dark?”

The old preacher smiled at Rose benevolently.  “I really don’t know.  I’m afraid, my dear young woman, that I’m a very unreliable witness.”

“You don’t recollect any details.  For instance, how did they come and did they bring witnesses with them?”

“Yes.  I was working in the garden—­weeding the strawberry-patch, I think.  They came in an automobile alone.  Wife and daughter were the witnesses.”

“Do you know when Mrs. Rankin and your daughter will be home?”

“By next Tuesday, at the latest.  Perhaps you can call again.  I trust there was nothing irregular about the marriage.”

“Not so far as we know.  We were anxious about the young lady.  She is a friend of ours,” Kirby said.  “By the way, the certificate of the marriage is not on record at the court-house.  Are you sure you returned it to the clerk?”

“Bless my soul, did I forget that again?” exclaimed the Reverend Nicodemus.  “I’ll have my daughter look for the paper as soon as she returns.”