Long before Patsy had finished his disquisition, Nick Carter had taken from him the scrap of white letter paper his assistant had held out, and he was now gazing at it with a thoughtful eye. The scrap of paper had been torn from an envelope--that was shown by the fact that part of the gummed flap still adhered--and on the fragment was a name, or part of one. It was “Bentha.” “Bentha?” murmured Nick. “It is easy to see that part of the name has been torn off. Of course, the name is ‘Bentham.’ Now, what brought this bit of paper to those stairs?” He lighted a cigar and smoked for several moments in deep reflection. Then he drew from his pocket the powerful magnifying glass he generally carried, and gazed steadily at the bit of white envelope. Patsy noted that his attention was not concentrated on the name, but that he looked at the back of the envelope as closely as at the front. “Do you want that beer, Patsy?” he asked, at last, as he replaced the glass in his pocket, and carefully deposited the scrap of envelope between the leaves of his notebook. “If you don’t, empty it into a cuspidor.” Patsy did not want the beer, and he disposed of it as he was told. The detective emptied his own glass into another cuspidor. Then he got up and sauntered out to the street. Patsy was close behind him. When they got to the waiting motor car, Nick directed Danny Maloney to drive to a cross street near Andrew Anderton’s house. The detective did not speak during the ride. But when they got to their destination, he told Maloney to wait, and walked swiftly around to Fifth Avenue, and up the steps of the Anderton mansion. As Nick and Patsy went in, they found themselves among half a dozen other men who were also going in. “The coroner’s inquest,” whispered Carter to his assistant. “This is lucky. It prevents our being particularly noticed.” CHAPTER X. NICK CONFIRMS A THEORY. The jury, who had been entering with Nick Carter and Patsy, were ushered into the bedroom where the remains of Andrew Anderton lay. Thence they were conducted to the study, and shown just how the deceased had been found lying on the floor. After that, the coroner addressed the jury at some length, telling them all he knew about the case--which was not much--and asking them to find a verdict that would give the police something to work on. The jury--several of whom had had experience in this sort of thing and knew what was required of them--promptly brought in a verdict that “the deceased had come to his death at the hands of some person or persons unknown.” Doctor Farrell, the coroner, thanked the jury and told them they could go. Their foreman wrote the verdict, for record, and directly afterward there was no one left in the room but the coroner, Nick Carter, and Patsy Garvan.