hanging evidence!"

"It is maddening!" I cried. "Can nothing be done, Gatton? Is there no
possible line of inquiry hitherto neglected which might lead to the
discovery of the truth? For whatever your own ideas may be, personally
I am certain that Coverly is innocent."

Gatton replaced the sodden garments one by one in the bag, frowning as
he did so, and:

"It occurred to me this morning," he replied, "that there _is_ one
inquiry which in justice to the suspected man and in order to round
off the investigation, should be instituted. I'm afraid Coverly will
have a bad time in the Coroner's court, but it is even possible that
something might be done before the inquest. Now--"

He looked at me quizzically, and:

"Knowing your keen personal interest in the case, I am going to make a
suggestion. It is probably going outside the intentions of the chief
in regard to your share of the inquiry, but I'll risk that. I
stipulate, however, that anything you learn is to be communicated
direct to me, not to the _Planet_. Is this arrangement consistent with
your journalistic conscience?"

"Quite," I said eagerly; "my contributions to the _Planet_ are always
subject, of course, to your censorship. What is it that you propose I
should do?"

"This," said Gatton tersely; "I should like to know under what