"But what's it all about?" asked the colonel. "This is talking in
riddles, though I begin to see a little--"

"I beg your pardon," said the girl. "I should have told you who I am.
My name is Amy Mason, and--"

"Ah! You are engaged to be married to James Darcy, who
is--er--detained as a--er--as a _witness_ in the murder of his cousin?"

"I am," and she seemed to glory in it. "As soon as I heard what had
happened--to him--I wanted to help. They would not let me see Jimmie
at police headquarters, but I sent word that dad and I were going to
work for him every minute."

"That must have cheered him."

"I hope it did. But I want to do more than that. I want to help him!
I want to get the best detective in the country to work on the case and
prove that Jimmie didn't do this--this terrible thing of which he is
accused."

"He isn't exactly accused yet, as I understand it, Miss Mason."

"Oh, well, it's just as bad. He is suspected. Why, Jimmie wouldn't
have caused Mrs. Darcy a moment of pain, to say nothing of striking
her--killing her! Oh, it's horrible--horrible!" and she covered her
face with her hands.

"I don't quite understand," began the colonel, "why you came to me, or
how--"