Little more than that had elapsed when Mr. Ringold opened the door and admitted the detectives, conducting them in to the library, and switching on the light. “Now, Nick, what’s it all about?” he inquired, gazing curiously at him. “It’s about the Carrington ball,” Nick replied. “How happened it that you and your wife did not go?” “For only one reason,” said Mr. Ringold. “It had been postponed, Nick, because of the sudden illness of Mr. Carrington.” “That so?” queried Nick, smiling. “Who informed you?” “A messenger sent out by Mrs. Carrington. He came in a limousine this afternoon. He stated that Carrington was ill, that the ball had necessarily been postponed, and that the invitation and admission cards had been recalled and would be reissued later.” “Did you see the messenger?” “No. I had not returned home from my office.” “Who saw him?” “My wife talked with him. She gave him the cards of our invitation. He said that he and the Carrington butler had been sent to collect them from all who had been invited.” “Mrs. Ringold suspected nothing wrong?” “Why should she?” “Nor you, when she informed you?” “Certainly not. The messenger told a plausible story. He appeared trustworthy, or my wife would have detected it. Is there something wrong, then, that you have called here?” Mr. Ringold demanded, a bit impatiently. Nick then told him the circumstances, or in so far as served his purpose, while his hearer gazed amazedly and with manifest regret. “By Jove, this is most astonishing, Carter,” he then said gravely. “Who would have thought of such an imposition? I care less for having been cheated out of a fine evening’s enjoyment, than that our invitation cards have been turned to such a despicable use. I will ask my wife to join us, if you wish to question her.” “You may, Ringold, if you have no objection,” said Nick. “I want a description of the messenger, also any other information that your wife can give me.” “I will speak to her.” “Gee, it looks like a neatly framed-up job, chief, for fair,” said Patsy, while they waited. “Decidedly so,” Nick agreed. “See whether that telephone is in working order.” He glanced at one on the library table and Patsy hastened to obey, presently reporting that he could get no communication from the local exchange. “The instrument has been put out of commission,” said Nick. “That’s about the size of it,” nodded Patsy. “It was done to prevent the Ringolds from calling up Mrs. Carrington to inquire concerning her husband’s alleged illness, or to verify the postponement, in case of any suspicion.” “Right again, chief, for a hundred.” “It’s ten to one that the wires have been cut outside where they enter the house,” Nick added. “We’ll have a look at them presently.”