"Don't be too hasty, aunt," he said, with a light attempt at gaiety. "Wait and see if anything comes of it. Reginald, I've something more to say. There's no mistake, is there, about your having got to your lodgings last Friday night week before twelve o'clock?" "I am certain it must have been before that hour," replied Reginald. "As I told them at the inquest yesterday, I cannot entirely depend upon my memory. It frequently happens that when there's an important subject in one's mind--as there was that night in mine--a small incident which has no relation to it impresses itself upon the memory. That was the case with me. I can distinctly recall taking out my watch when I was in my bedroom, winding it up, looking at the time, and putting it back into my waistcoat pocket." "Did any person see you enter the house? Think hard, Reginald." "No person, in my remembrance." "When you put the latchkey in the door the policeman might have been passing?" "He might have been. I did not see him." "No one saw you go upstairs?" "Not that I know of. The house is always very quiet at that hour." "I paid your landlady a visit last night," said Dick, "and she does not know what time you came home; neither does the servant, who doesn't seem blessed with a memory at all. It is most unfortunate that we cannot get a witness who could testify to the hour of your return to your lodgings. It would effectually dispose of Dr. Pye's evidence, so far as you are concerned, for he says he threw his flashlight at three in the morning. By Jove!" Dick exclaimed, looking at the clock on the mantelpiece, "it's ten o'clock, and the Coroner's Court opens at eleven. I sha'n't be there till late, unless there's a warrant out against me"--Dick laughed lightly, as though a warrant were the least thing they had to fear. "There's the printing to see to; I don't intend to leave the printing office till the reward bills are out. Now let's settle how they're to be drawn up; we've got just half-an-hour. Aunt Rob, I wish you'd do a kind action for once in your life." "What is it, Dick?" "Little Gracie is just round the corner, waiting for me; you won't see the tip of her nose unless you turn the street, for I told her to keep out of sight. She's my shadow, you know, and I haven't the heart to order her not to follow me about. What the child sees in me to haunt me as she does is more than I can understand." "What we all see in you," said Aunt Rob, tenderly. "Oh, of course. Well, it's my opinion little Gracie came away from home this morning without any breakfast----" Aunt Rob broke in upon him. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself for letting a hungry child stand alone in the cold streets all this time." Out she ran to pounce upon Gracie.