Private quarters on E Street--the great detective was disposed to shun the publicity of the hotels--were secured, and late in the afternoon, when the conversation could be carried on with ease and freedom, Feversham told his story. "The newspapers have given nearly all the facts that are in possession of the officers. I will now disclose to you what has not been published and also give you my own ideas concerning the murder: James Playfair had an appointment with me for eleven o'clock that fatal night. We were to make the final arrangements for a fishing-trip to the Chesapeake. The excursion boat was scheduled to return at ten o'clock, for the river ride was to be a short one, having been gotten up for the benefit of some foreign visitors. I saw him off on the boat, and his last words were: 'I am going on this excursion as a matter of duty'--he was a member of the committee which had arranged the affair--'and when I return I shall hurry to your rooms.' These words, when taken in connection with my intimate knowledge of his private affairs, carry with them the conviction that he left the boat to keep an appointment." "Then that appointment must have been made after you parted with him and before the boat left the wharf," said Nick. "I think so, otherwise his parting words to me would have been different. He went off alone. Several persons saw him leave the wharf to go down toward the river shore. The person with whom he had the appointment, therefore, must have had powerful reasons of his own for not accompanying him. The matter is very suspicious, very mysterious, as you must perceive." Nick nodded his head. Then he said: "Was Playfair a man of slight, or powerful physique? In other words, would he have been able to have held his own with a man of ordinary strength?" "Yes. He was of abstemious habits, remarkably well preserved, and hardy of constitution, and, in his prime, one of the best all-around athletes in the city." "Then the man who murdered him must have been of more than ordinary muscular power. That is, if Playfair were strangled." "How could he have met his death otherwise?" replied Feversham, regarding the detective in surprise. "The finger-marks on the throat determine the manner of death. The inquest is set for this evening. If there is other evidence you will learn it then." "Have you anything more to tell, Mr. Feversham? I have been informed that Playfair had no enemies and that he led a very quiet life." "That is true, Mr. Carter." "Do you think he had anything on his mind lately?" "No. He was as cheerful as usual when I last saw him alive. If he had been oppressed by any worry I should have known it." "How long had he been a widower?" "Ten years." "No children, I believe?" "No children of his own. His wife had a son by a former husband." Nick pricked up his ears. "Where is that son?" he asked quietly.