"I thought it came from outside. I thought it was a woman prowling around the house. Then I said to myself, why should a woman prowl around the Cedars? And it was too unearthly, sir, and I remembered the way Mr. Silas was murdered, and the awful thing that happened to his body this afternoon, and I--you won't think me foolish, sirs?--I doubted if it was a human voice I had heard." "No," Graham said dryly, "we won't think you foolish." "So I thought I'd better wake you up and tell you." Graham turned to Bobby. "Katherine and you and I," he said, "fancied the crying was in the room with us. Jenkins is sure it came from outside the house. That is significant." "Wherever it came from," Bobby said softly, "it was like some one mourning for Howells." Jenkins started. "The policeman!" Bobby remembered that Jenkins hadn't been aroused by the discovery of Howells's murder. "You'd know in a few minutes anyway," he said. "Howells has been killed as my grandfather was." Jenkins moved back, a look of unbelief and awe in his wrinkled face. "He boasted he was going to sleep in that room," he whispered. Bobby studied Jenkins, not knowing what to make of the old man, for into the awe of the wrinkled face had stolen a positive relief, an emotion that bordered on the triumphant. "It's terrible," Jenkins whispered. Graham grasped his shoulder. "What's the matter with you, Jenkins? One would say you were glad." "No. Oh, no, sir. It is terrible. I was only wondering about the policeman's report." "What do you know about his report?" Bobby cried. "Only that--that he gave it to me to mail just before he went up to the old room." "You mailed it?" Graham snapped. Jenkins hesitated. When he answered his voice was self-accusing. "I'm an old coward, Mr. Robert. The policeman told me the letter was very important, and if anything happened to it I would get in trouble. He couldn't afford to leave the house himself, he said. But, as I say, I'm a coward, and I didn't want to walk through the woods to the box by the gate. I figured it all out. It wouldn't be taken up until early in the morning, and if I waited until daylight it would only be delayed one collection. So I made up my mind I'd sleep on it, because I knew he had it in for you, Mr. Robert. I supposed I'd mail it in the morning, but I decided I'd think it over anyway and not harrow myself walking through the woods." "You've done a good job," Graham said excitedly. "Where is the report now?" "In my room. Shall I fetch it, sir?" Graham nodded, and Jenkins shuffled up the stairs. "What luck!" Graham said. "Howells must have telephoned his suspicions to the district attorney. He must have mentioned the evidence, but what does that amount to since it's disappeared along with the duplicate of the report, if Howells made one?"