Edward nodded and left us.

“Yes,” I remarked after he had gone, “it does seem as if the thing to do was to get on the trail of a person bearing wounds of some kind.  I notice, for one thing, Craig, that Edward shows no such marks, nor does any one else in the house as far as I can see.  If it were an ‘inside job’ I fancy Edward at least could clear himself.  The point is to find the person with a bandaged hand or plastered face.”

Kennedy assented, but his mind was on another subject.  “Before we go we must see Mrs. Pitts alone, if we can,” he said simply.

In answer to his inquiry through one of the servants she sent down word that she would see us immediately in her sitting-room.  The events of the morning had quite naturally upset her, and she was, if anything, even paler than when we saw her before.

“Mrs. Pitts,” began Kennedy, “I suppose you are aware of the physical condition of your husband?”

It seemed a little abrupt to me at first, but he intended it to be.  “Why,” she asked with real alarm, “is he so very badly?”

“Pretty badly,” remarked Kennedy mercilessly, observing the effect of his words.  “So badly, I fear, that it would not require much more excitement like to-day’s to bring on an attack of apoplexy.  I should advise you to take especial care of him, Mrs. Pitts.”

Following his eyes, I tried to determine whether the agitation of the woman before us was genuine or not.  It certainly looked so.  But then, I knew that she had been an actress before her marriage.  Was she acting a part now?

“What do you mean?” she asked tremulously.

“Mrs. Pitts,” replied Kennedy quickly, observing still the play of emotion on her delicate features, “some one, I believe, either regularly in or employed in this house or who had a ready means of access to it must have entered that kitchen last night.  For what purpose, I can leave you to judge.  But Sam surprised the intruder there and was killed for his faithfulness.”

Her startled look told plainly that though she might have suspected something of the sort she did not think that any one else suspected, much less actually perhaps knew it.

“I can’t imagine who it could be, unless it might be one of the servants,” she murmured hastily; adding, “and there is none of them that I have any right to suspect.”

She had in a measure regained her composure, and Kennedy felt that it was no use to pursue the conversation further, perhaps expose his hand before he was ready to play it.

“That woman is concealing something,” remarked Kennedy to me as we left the house a few minutes later.

“She at least bears no marks of violence herself of any kind,” I commented.

“No,” agreed Craig, “no, you are right so far.”  He added:  “I shall be very busy in the laboratory this afternoon, and probably longer.  However, drop in at dinner time, and in the meantime, don’t say a word to any one, but just use your position on the Star to keep in touch with anything the police authorities may be doing.”