“She was her father’s idol, and he hers. She took his side of the quarrel.” “What was her name?” “Same as her mother--Estelle. But what has all this to do with my child?” “More, much more, than you suspect, madame,” replied Nick, firmly. “In what way--explain?” “Presently. You recognize the portrait of your child in that watch?” “Oh, yes! May I keep the watch?” “If you answer me truly two questions.” “Ask them.” Nick produced the glove which had been taken from the dead girl’s hand, and held it up before her. “Is this your glove?” She turned pale, but answered firmly and promptly: “It is. Where----” “And this one, too?” “Yes, sir; that, too. Where did you get them?” “This one,” designating the first one, “was found in the private office of Victor Redway this evening. “This one,” elevating the other glove, “was dropped in the law office of John Woodford, just across the street from Redway’s office.” The woman had turned deadly pale, and Nick thought once she would faint again. So he gave her time to rally, which she did quite bravely. Then he went on: “When you dropped the last glove in Woodford’s office you were sitting at his window watching a scene going on in Redway’s office, just across the street. “In that scene a girl in Redway’s office was trying to get this other glove, the mate, on her left hand.” Nick paused long enough to make his recital the more dramatic. “While she was thus engaged, and while you were watching her, somebody killed her, shot her--murdered her in cowardly, cold blood.” Mrs. Lock sat as if chiseled from stone. If she had the power of speech, she made no attempt to use it. So Nick concluded the dramatic situation. “You do not know who that girl was, but I believe you do know who fired the shot which deprived her of life. “Now, I am going to tell you who the victim was, and then I’ll ask you to tell me who was the assassin. “You did not recognize the girl, I suppose?” A negative shake of the head was the only response. “But you begin to suspect.” “Ah, my God!” came the response, in a whispering gasp. “The girl whom you saw murdered was our cousin, Estelle Langdon. Now, who was it that fired the shot?” The answer came almost as Nick expected. For the second time Mrs. Lock lost consciousness. She had fainted again. CHAPTER IX. A HUSBAND’S LOVE. When Mrs. Lock had once more regained consciousness, Nick gave her a stimulant, and let her have plenty of time to come into full possession of her reasoning faculties before he pressed her further about what she had seen from Lawyer Woodford’s window. When he did resume the subject, it was by saying: “Take time to think the situation over seriously, Mrs. Lock, and then give me your answer.” “I can give you your answer now,” she replied, in a voice which was weak and trembling. “All the answer I have to give?” “By telling me what you saw from Lawyer Woodford’s window.” “I do not admit that I saw anything from Lawyer Woodford’s window.”