“Only because of two guys he has been friendly with lately. They have been here to see him, one of them quite a number of times.” “Two men?” “Yes, sir.” “Do you know them?” Nick inquired, turning to Mrs. Darling. “Hardly more than by name,” she replied. “My husband introduced me to one of them, named Philip Floyd, who has called several times to see him. I have met the other only once.” “What is his name?” asked Nick, proceeding to write them in his notebook. “Ralph Sheldon. He called here a few days ago with Mr. Floyd, who introduced me to him. My husband was absent at the time and they remained only a few minutes. That is the only time I ever saw Mr. Sheldon, though my husband had frequently mentioned him.” “Are they old friends of his?” “Quite the contrary. I never heard of them until about a month ago.” “Had they any business relations with your husband?” “I cannot say.” “Do you know anything about them?” “No more than I have told you,” said Mrs. Darling. “My husband referred to them only as friends, and he appeared to think well of them.” “Do you know where they live?” “I do not.” “Both were here, you say, a few days before he died.” “The day before, Mr. Carter, and both attended his funeral.” “Did they say why they wanted to see him on the day preceding his death?” “They did not. I inferred from their remarks, however, that it was only a friendly call.” “Are they men of his own age?” “I would say that Mr. Sheldon is nearly as old. He appears to be in the forties. Mr. Floyd, however, is not over thirty.” “Are they prepossessing men?” “Yes, in a way, though I did not quite fancy them,” said Mrs. Darling. “As for Nancy--well, she may speak for herself. It was partly her impression of them that led me to take her advice and appeal to you.” “On the dead, Mr. Carter, I would not trust either of them as far as I could throw a bull by the tail,” Nancy bluntly declared, in characteristic terms. “You know me, sir. I am not easily fooled. I can read a man dead right nine times out of ten, Mr. Carter, the minute I set my eyes on him.” “You did not fancy them, then?” “Not so you’d notice it,” said Nancy. “I wouldn’t say too much against the Sheldon man, Mr. Carter, for I’ve seen him only twice. I saw him at the funeral, and I let him in with Mr. Floyd a few days before. He’s all right, mebbe, though I’d hate to bank much on it.” “What about Mr. Floyd? Why do you distrust him so seriously?” “I have more than one reason for that hunch,” said Nancy inelegantly. “For a starter, Mr. Carter, I’ve seen that guy before.” “Floyd?” “Yes, sir.” “When and where, Nancy?” “Give it up. On the dead, sir, I can’t tell.” “But you feel sure of it?” “Surest thing you know,” said Nancy confidently. “I’d stake my bundle on it, Mr. Carter, and you know what that means, knowing what I was. Any man I knew in the past was most likely a crook.” Nick did not contradict her.