"That was always there, sir, and used for the gardener's tools." "Then the gardener knew of it?" "Maloney, the older one, did, I am sure; he has been here a long time." "Was he here before the mysteries?" "Yes, sir, he has been five years on the place." "Cook, what do you think of the murder of Winthrop Mark?" It was one of those sudden questions that sometimes bring results. "I don't know, sir--it is terrible, sir, of course." "Where was Maloney yesterday, Cook?" The man looked long at us. "He was here when I got up at six o'clock, raking the leaves on the front walk." "Indeed!" said Oakes. We could not tell whether the answer surprised him, or not. "I suppose Mike worked all day?" "Yes, sir, he was about on the place the entire time." Oakes made no remark whatever at this, but dismissed Cook. "We cannot go too far in presence of the servants," said he, "for I am only Clark the agent here, you remember. The time is coming when we may have to declare ourselves and we may need police help to make arrests, but," he smiled, "we have Hallen as a friend, I guess." Oakes was calmly sanguine, I could see, but of course he did not know that collateral events were brewing of grave importance to us all. "Now for the robe and mask," said he. I handed over the mask, an old affair and considerably worn from usage. A piece of it was missing, which Oakes replaced with the fragment of paper picked up in the cellar; it fitted exactly, settling the fact that the mask had been worn by the man who fought him in that place. The detective looked it all over and said: "This is such as was sold in New York years ago. It is ordinary, and offers no clue as to the owner or the place of purchase. I know the kind." The robe was fairly long, and made of old velvet lined with satin, quite shiny inside and out. The name of its maker had been carefully cut away. It was spotted with blood--Oakes's, no doubt--for it was fresh. "It served a good purpose this time, anyway," said I; "saved the man's clothes from being marked." "Medium chest measure," said Oakes. "Try it on, Stone." I did so, and it just met around me. "Good! The fellow who wore it is not a giant in chest measure, at all events, though larger than you, probably, since he wore it next to his undershirt." "How in the world do you know that, Oakes?" said the doctor. "Look at the discoloration of the lining on the shoulders, and also across the chest and back. The soil is old, but there is a moisture about the front yet, the moisture of fresh perspiration--it has been used quite recently. _That_ would not have come through a coat or a vest. I should not be surprised if he had worn it over his naked chest." "Where do you suppose the outfit came from?" I asked. "Probably a relic of some masquerade ball of many years ago. This house used to be a popular place for entertainments." "What did you pick up in the cellar when you stooped for the match?"