“Oh, yes we have,—but look here, Mr Bates. It won’t do for you to take that antagonistic attitude toward me and my work. As you know, I told you I must follow wherever the trail leads, and this indicative direction must be followed up. It may be that the Everetts are not the ‘women,’ and if so, I’ll find that out. But I may say, that so far, there are, to my mind, no women suspects but the Everetts or—your aunt.” “I’d rather you’d suspect my aunt! I’d rather the criminal should be my aunt——” “But, Mr Bates, I can’t consult your preferences as to the identity of the criminal!” “Now, don’t you worry, Mr Bates,” Zizi said, gently, “I don’t believe your sweetheart or her mother are mixed up in this thing at all.” “Why, Ziz?” and Wise turned a mild, questioning glance her way. He had great faith in the opinions of his little helper, and was always ready to revise his own judgment if hers contradicted it. For Zizi never spoke thoughtlessly or without reason. And this last remark of hers indicated some knowledge or indication that might turn the trend of suspicion. “Because that little fluff of a Mrs Everett is too good-natured to kill or to direct the killing of anybody.” “She isn’t so awfully good-natured!” exclaimed Bates, involuntarily. “You should hear her talk to my aunt!” “Oh, yes, I know about that feud thing,” and Zizi smiled tolerantly; “but that’s a sort of obsession or idiosyncrasy of the two women. Really, Mrs Everett is a good-natured lady, and you needn’t have any fights with your mother-in-law, unless you make them yourself.” “Don’t be flippant, Zizi,” warned Wise. “This isn’t the time for banter.” “It’s the time for action,” said Zizi, springing from her seat. “I’m going straight to Miss Prall with the whole story, and I think we’ll learn a lot. Are you men coming with me?” Like sheep, Bates and Wise followed her. Pennington Wise was really more at a loss than he had ever before found himself. The indisputable evidence of the dying man’s message was all he really had to work on, and his work on that was not productive, so far, of success. The women accused _must_ be found. But Wise, while he realized there were no other suspects, couldn’t think the two ladies of Feud fame were the ones. True enough, they could both be said to have had motive, and, in the house, anybody could be said to have had opportunity, yet both motive and opportunity were slight ones, and the latter largely dependent on a convenient chance. It seemed absurd to think of Mrs Everett,—or Kate Holland,—waiting behind a pillar, and then seeing the victim walk in! And yet he had walked in; somebody had met him and stabbed him, so the other suppositions were, at least, plausible. The three went to the Prall apartment, and, strange to say, found Miss Letitia in a quiet, placid mood. She looked at them with a sort of wondering interest, and bade them be seated. “You’ve been here several days, now, Mr Wise,” she said; “have you made any real progress?”