“Because I now am sure that it was a frame-up, and because the intimacy between Cora Cavendish and Tilly Lancey, now knowing that the blood on these articles came from a second woman, probably made the job possible.” “I see.” “In other words,” Nick added; “I suspect that Cora Cavendish and one or more confederates are responsible for the whole business. I’m doubly sure of it, in fact, if she is that anæmic type of woman.” “By Jove, I think you may be right,” said Chick, more earnestly. “But there are a good many points that I cannot fathom.” “To begin with?” inquired Nick. “We must assume that Gordon has told the truth, of course, and that he left Tilly Lancey alive just before midnight.” “Certainly.” “And that he immediately hastened home?” “I have no doubt of it.” “How, then, came the blood on his garments?” “Bear in mind, Chick, that it is not Tilly Lancey’s blood,” said Nick. “It is some that was obtained for this job. The crooks knew that human blood would be required, as tests would surely be made after the crime; but they overlooked the fact, or were ignorant of it, that tests would reveal the difference between it and that of their victim.” “You now think, I infer, that the blood was drawn from the veins of Cora Cavendish.” “I do,” Nick nodded. “Only a small quantity would have been required. It could have been easily obtained by an incision in one of the veins of her arm, and received in a small vial.” “But when and how could it have been spattered upon Gordon’s garments, to say nothing of the smooches in his overcoat pocket?” “Easily,” said Nick. “Tell me.” “Assume, for instance, that several persons comprised the gang. They laid their plans, paved the way to execute them, and provided themselves with the blood required.” “Well?” “Tilly Lancey may have been duped into admitting one of them to her flat last night, possibly more, and they may have been concealed there during her interview with Gordon. That could have been craftily accomplished by Cora Cavendish, if she was out to deceive and murder her intimate friend.” “I admit that much, Nick, of course,” Chick allowed. “Tilly Lancey could have been killed, then, and probably was, immediately after Gordon left the house,” Nick continued. “She was struck down with a jimmy, which was afterward used to pry open her desk, and later carried away by her assailants.” “But you say the blood on this jimmy is not Tilly Lancey’s blood.” “True,” Nick nodded. “This is not the jimmy used for the murder, mind you, but one precisely like it.” “Ah, I see.” “The crooks were working along fine lines,” Nick pointed out. “They wanted a weapon found that would correspond with the wounds inflicted. So they got two like jimmies, one of which they stained with blood and concealed after a fashion in Gordon’s grounds. I say after a fashion, Chick, because they designedly put it where it would soon be discovered.”