The idea of one of the world's greatest mechanical engineers stopping his work to oil a towel hanger caused Lees to smile, but Mrs. Darrow did not smile. "My husband was a genius at repairing about the house," she said, in all seriousness. "I can imagine so," agreed Lees. The conversation ceased. Lees sat for a few minutes with his head in his hands, thinking deeply. Finally he said: "I am convinced that someone who was well aware of your husband's habits committed this crime. Do you believe, positively, that the gardener is above suspicion?" "Oh, it couldn't have been Peck," insisted Mrs. Darrow. "I had seen him down near the gate from the window. He was too far from the house, and besides, he was devoted to us both." "Then it was somebody from the neighborhood," said Lees. "Maybe so," replied Mrs. Darrow, noncommittally. "Who lives in the next house south?" "That is towards the city," mused the widow. "There are no houses south on either side of the road for a little further than a mile, when you reach the town limits of Farsdale. The town line is about half-way between, and marks the southern end of this estate." "Who lives in the first house to the north?" "That is the cottage of Peck, the gardener." "How near is the next house?" "That was the parcel my father sold. It is about three acres, and in the center, or about the center, is the house built by Adolph Jouret, who bought the land. He lives there with his daughter. They built a magnificent place. The brook that traverses our grounds rises at a spring back of his house. Save for two West Indian servants, they are alone. The servants live in Farsdale and motor back and forth." * * * * * "What do you know of this--what's his name?" queried Lees, who had assumed the role of examiner. "Jouret? Very little. He is some sort of a circus man or showman, or was before he retired. He once had wealth, but my husband, some weeks ago, said that because of ill-advised investments he was not so well rated as formerly. I had the feeling that he might be forced to give up the place. I just felt that. I never heard it. I am so sorry because of the daughter. She is a beautiful girl, and seemed kindly, the one time I saw her. She was about twelve then. I do not like to say it, but she seemed a little dazed or slow witted, but really beautiful." Mrs. Darrow fell to smoothing out the folds in her house apron as Lees asked: "When was the only time you saw her?" "Ten years ago, about. Just after my father's death. They called on us. We did not care to continue the friendship, as Jouret seemed a little flamboyant--his circus nature, I suppose. Anyway, we were quiet folks, and there was no need of close association with neighbors.