He held up a pair of gloves of an entirely different color, and probably several sizes larger than that which was partially on the hand of the corpse. “Well, by Jove!” muttered the coroner. Nick had reached down again into the pocket in which he found the gloves. This time he fished out a lady’s pocket-book. Without opening it, he carried it across the room and gently pulled the glove from the stiffening fingers of the dead girl. Then he rolled the three gloves and the pocket-book up together, and put them all away in an inside pocket of his coat. “With your permission, I’ll take charge of these important articles of evidence,” he said to the coroner. The latter nodded assent, and asked: “What is in the pocket-book?” “We’ll find out later when I’ve time to examine it. Now, we must get together our facts by questioning those people out there one at a time.” “A good idea.” “But, before we begin, I want to make a request.” “Name it.” “That you postpone the inquest from day to day till I have a chance to get to the very bottom of the mystery.” “Willingly, my boy, and meantime I’ll not bother my brains about it, because I know what Nick Carter cannot fathom in a case like this will never be found out.” “Thank you. Now, we will call in and question our first witness.” “Who will it be? the elder of the two men--the one who must have been here first after the tragedy or when it occurred?” “No, I think I’ll first hear what the younger and more fashionably dressed one of the two has to tell. I’ll call him in.” So saying, Nick went to the dividing door, opened it, and beckoned to the man who had preceded him up the stairs only a few seconds to the scene of the tragedy. The young man entered the rear office, plainly laboring under great excitement. Nick closed and locked the door, invited his witness to take a seat, and lost no time in beginning his examination. CHAPTER III. WHAT THE CONFIDENTIAL CLERK KNEW. “In order to get down to the facts in this case,” began Nick, addressing the young man, “it will be necessary to apply for information to those who are supposed to be in possession of the knowledge we seek. We have, therefore, called you in first to set us on the way in our inquiry.” “I am ready to answer any question which it is in my power to do?” responded the young man, trying hard to repress his nervousness. “What is your name?” “Oscar Gay.” “What is your business?” “Confidential clerk.” “For whom?” “Bridgely & Byke.” “Where are Messrs. Bridgely & Byke now?” “Mr. Byke is in Europe--has been away about one month.” “And Bridgely?” “Bridgely has been dead more than a year.” “Then Byke represents the firm as it existed before the death of the senior partner--he constitutes the firm?” Gay hesitated and shuffled uneasily in his seat for a few moments before he replied: “The firm name remains the same, but Mr. Byke has a partner.” “Who?” “Victor Redway.” “The man I found in this room with you a while ago?”