The only other tangible factor in the case that seemed to suggest in any way the presence of a third party was the ulster. My former theory that its absence from the scene--since it had not been taken by Winters--proved the presence of a third party, failed now since it had evidently been worn out by White himself, and apparently left by him at Belle Stanton's; but this last conclusion I was not yet quite prepared to admit. Of course, Belle Stanton's home was a place where White might well have left it, had it been likely that he would have left it anywhere; but I thought it highly improbable that any man would have walked back nearly two blocks on such a rainy night, and in evening dress, without an overcoat; that is, unless he was out of his mind, and White was certainly not that when I had parted from him less than an hour earlier. Furthermore, I reasoned, if he had done so his clothes must have shown the effect of exposure to the weather and as far as I recalled, they were immaculate when I saw him the following morning. On the whole I was not ready to admit that White had left the ulster there. Assuming, therefore, that he had not done so, I turned my thoughts to the consideration of some other means by which it could have gotten there. It must have been taken out by some one with intimate knowledge of White's habits and private life, and also by some one having access to his several establishments, to at once secure the ulster and dispose of it in a place so suggestive of the action of White. The very conditions of the problem suggested the answer. I knew of but one man who possessed the knowledge and opportunities required. That man was Benton. With the recognition of this fact came a very disagreeable sensation. I was anxious to establish Winters's innocence, but I recoiled from the thought of hunting down another man in his place, especially when I realized that while the conclusion of my reasoning might raise a doubt as to Winters's guilt, it was entirely insufficient to do more than cast an awful suspicion upon Benton. I sat long in reflection over the situation. I was at first inclined to abandon the whole thing, but then I recognized the obligation to fulfil a duty I had undertaken, especially since it had disclosed a theory of the murder that might be the means of saving an innocent man's life. Could I, to spare the feelings or even to spare the reputation of another man who might be either innocent or guilty, leave Winters to the fate I felt must overtake him if I did not interfere?