“I quite agree with you,” I replied.  “But I see little chance of being invited to stay here.  Where is the family?  Who are in it?”

“Not many.  There is Miss Florence Lloyd, a niece of Mr. Crawford.  That is, she is the niece of his wife.  Mrs. Crawford has been dead many years, and Miss Lloyd has kept house for her uncle all that time.  Then there is Mrs. Pierce, an elderly lady and a distant relative of Mr. Crawford’s.  That is all, except the secretary, Gregory Hall, who lives here much of the time.  That is, he has a room here, but often he is in New York or elsewhere on Mr. Crawford’s business.”

“Mr. Crawford had an office both here and in New York?” I asked.

“Yes; and of late years he has stayed at home as much as possible.  He went to New York only about three or four days in the week, and conducted his business from here the rest of the time.  Young Hall is a clever fellow, and has been Mr. Crawford’s righthand man for years.”

“Where is he now?”

“We think he’s in New York, but haven’t yet been able to locate him at Mr. Crawford’s office there, or at his club.  He is engaged to Miss Lloyd, though I understand that the engagement is contrary to Mr. Crawford’s wishes.”

“And where is Miss Lloyd,—­and Mrs. Pierce?”

“They are both in their rooms.  Mrs. Pierce is prostrated at the tragedy, and Miss Lloyd simply refuses to make her appearance.”

“But she’ll have to attend the inquest?”

“Oh, yes, of course.  She’ll be with us then.  I think I won’t say anything about her to you, as I’d rather you’d see her first with entirely unprejudiced eyes.”

“So you, too, think Miss Lloyd is implicated?”

“I don’t think anything about it, Mr. Burroughs.  As coroner it is not my place to think along such lines.”

“Well, everybody else thinks so,” broke in Parmalee.  “And why?  Because there’s no one else for suspicion to light on.  No one else who by any possibility could have done the deed.”

“Oh, come now, Mr. Parmalee,” said I, “there must be others.  They may not yet have come to our notice, but surely you must admit an intruder could have come into the room by way of those long, open windows.”

“These speculations are useless, gentlemen,” said Mr. Monroe, with his usual air of settling the matter.  “Cease then, I beg, or at least postpone them.  If you are walking down the avenue, Mr. Parmalee, perhaps you’ll be good enough to conduct Mr. Burroughs to the Sedgwick Arms, where he doubtless can find comfortable accommodations.”

I thanked Mr. Monroe for the suggestion, but said, straightforwardly enough, that I was not yet quite ready to leave the Crawford house, but that I would not detain Mr. Parmalee, for I could myself find my way to the inn, having noticed it on my drive from the train.

So Parmalee went away, and I was about to return to Mr. Crawford’s office where I hoped to pursue a little uninterrupted investigation.