“Detective Keene, this is Mr. Hamilton French, the lawyer,” said the chief gravely. “He is a personal friend--one I would be glad to effectively serve, if it is possible. I wish you to undertake some special detective work at his solicitation.” A curious smile rose about the lips of Sheridan Keene, and he took the hand which Lawyer French extended. “After the preface of Chief Watts,” he said, with dry pleasantry, “I hardly need assure you, Mr. French, that I shall do the best I can for you. What is the nature of this work, sir?” “One moment, gentlemen,” interposed Chief Watts. “You have just about time to hit the half past nine train. The sooner you reach the immediate scene of this tragedy, the better. I would suggest, Mr. French, that you start at once and give Detective Keene any points you may desire during the journey.” “My idea exactly!” exclaimed the lawyer. “Are you ready to go with me at once, Detective Keene?” “I am always ready when duty calls,” said Keene, laughing. Yet his response was true to the very letter. “Good!” cried the lawyer heartily. “Come, then! I have a coupé at the door.” Keene turned back, with only one swift glance at the expressive eyes of the chief inspector; then hastened through the corridor and overtook the attorney at the outer door. CHAPTER II. ON THE TRAIN. Detective Keene and the attorney caught their train by a narrow margin only, and secured a seat somewhat aloof from the few other passengers in the smoking car. This partial seclusion evidently suited the lawyer, who appeared seriously disturbed by the news of his client’s tragic death, and anxious to give Keene what information he could that would aid him in locating the criminal. But the young detective checked him almost at the beginning. “It is only a short run down there,” said the lawyer. “I will give you all the points I can in the time allowed, that on your arrival you will be better equipped to look the evidence over. I think----” “First, allow me just a word, Mr. French, if you will pardon the interruption,” said Keene, turning his clear, grave eyes on the face of the attorney. “Whatever you may think, there is one thing I do not wish you to tell me.” “What is that, Mr. Keene?” “You already suspect some person of this crime, and I prefer not to know whom.” “Well, well! You detectives are discerning fellows!” Mr. French exclaimed, smiling faintly. “Chief Watts drew the same inference, though from what I cannot imagine.” “That you engage the help of a special officer before you have verified your telegram, even, is to me a sufficient indication of your suspicion,” Keene explained. “Quite logical, too.” “You also fear that some innocent person may be to some extent complicated.” “That is true, also.”