The detective agreed, and Julie went on. “Specially, I don’t want Bob Moore to know. We’re engaged and he’s awful particular about where I go, when he isn’t along. And I’ve never gone any place or done anything he wouldn’t want me to, except that very night. I went with a crowd on a trip to Chinatown. It wasn’t any harm, but we were out late, and if he knew it, he’d give me the dickens. You won’t tell, will you? And, too, if the manager knew it, he’d think I was a different sort of a girl from what I am. So, please don’t tell.” “No; we won’t tell,” promised Bates. “Unless, of course, we find you haven’t told the truth, or the whole truth,—in that case, you’ll be shown up! I never suspected any connection of yours with the whole matter, but if you’ve told the truth just now, it will go no further. I know you’re not given to frisking about, and I think myself it’s just as well Moore shouldn’t know of this one occasion. By the way, did you study to be a nurse?” “I began the course of training, but the work was too hard for me and I gave it up the first year and took up telephoning.” “Did you,” asked Gibbs, suddenly, “did you know any one else in the hospital, or wherever you were, who studied nursing, and who is in any way connected with the people interested in this murder?” Julie hesitated and her face flushed a little. “I don’t think I ought to mention it,——” she began, and Gibbs cried: “Of course you ought to mention it! If you’re innocent it can do you no harm, and if the one you tell us of is innocent it can do her no harm.” “But it may stir up suspicion quite wrongly,” objected the girl. “Then the suspicion will fall to the ground. Don’t be afraid; you are only helping justice along. If it’s a real help you must give it, and if not, it won’t be followed up.” But Richard Bates looked grave. “Oh, I don’t know, Gibbs,” he said; “somebody must have started this trend toward my aunt, and it’s made me pretty miserable already. Now, need we take up a new trail with only a sort of surmise on this girl’s part. For, surely, she is by no means ready to make a positive accusation.” “Out with it, Julie,” commanded the detective with no apparent notice of Bates’ demurrer. “Well, it’s only this,” and Julie looked relieved at the thought of unburdening herself; “when I was in training, the girls used to talk of Kate Holland, who was there many years before, but who seemed to be a sort of a star pupil. I don’t remember much that they said, only she was renowned for her surgical skill, and when I heard Bob tell how the murderer of Sir Binney was a knowing one, I couldn’t help thinking about her. You know she’s Mrs Everett’s maid.” “Oh, Lord!” Bates groaned, “don’t drag the Everetts into this thing! It’s bad enough to have my people spoken of without attacking the Everetts too!” “Nobody has attacked them yet,” said Gibbs, dryly; “don’t go too fast.”