“Yes, yes, to be sure. He has gone with his wife to spend the evening with the Burtons, in Claremont Avenue. They may return at any moment, Mr. Carter, or you may reach them by telephone. The name is Calvin R. Burton.” “Get Clayton on the phone, Chick,” Nick quickly directed. “State only that I am here and wish to see him on important business. Ask him to return immediately.” Chick hastened to obey. “Now, Mr. Garside, where are Mr. Langham and the servants?” “Mr. Langham is in Washington on business. The servants were given this evening to attend the wedding of the butler, who resigned his position to-day to be married in Manhattanville. It is too early for them to have returned. I have been visiting a friend since seven o’clock, Professor Abner Busby, who lives in the rear street.” “Mrs. Julia Clayton, then, was left alone here?” “Yes, sir, except the baby,” nodded Garside, glancing again at the woman mentioned. “Some one had to remain here, of course, and Mrs. Clayton said she would do so that the nurse might attend the wedding with the other servants. What is the matter with her, Mr. Carter?” he anxiously added. “She does not appear to know me. She looks dazed and unnatural. Her hands are smeared with blood. Has she gone crazy? Was it she who killed Doctor Thorpe?” He turned with a shudder while speaking and gazed again at the lifeless man on the floor. Chick arose from the telephone at the same moment. “I got him, Nick, all right,” he remarked. “He will start for home immediately.” “Did he ask any questions?” “None of any importance. He said he would be here in about ten minutes.” “Very good.” Nick turned again to Clayton’s private secretary. Although he had readily answered the detective’s questions, he still appeared quite overcome by the tragic circumstances. That he had told the truth concerning them, however, in so far as he was able to do so, appeared quite obvious, and Nick continued his inquiries. “You know this man, then,” said he, approaching the lifeless form. “Yes, indeed, Mr. Carter, though I hardly recognized him at first,” was the reply. “He is Mr. Clayton’s family physician, Doctor Joseph Thorpe. His home is about two blocks from here.” “Were you well acquainted with him?” “No. Only since I have been in Mr. Clayton’s employ.” “How long is that?” “About three months. I first met Doctor Thorpe when he came to attend Mr. Clayton. That was two months ago.” “What is the matter with Mr. Clayton?” Nick questioned, a bit bluntly. “I did not know he was ill.” “I cannot say of what his trouble consists,” Garside replied. “He has been losing flesh and feeling quite badly for several weeks.” “Has he been going to his office?” “Only part of the time, one or two days each week, and he then remained only during the morning. I think, Mr. Carter, that Doctor Thorpe has found his case a rather mystifying one,” Garside gravely added.