"I suppose our friends knew that Aunt Susan liked peaches," she said. Her hesitation, slight as it was, was not lost on Mitchell. "I never gave the matter a thought." "Indeed?" Mitchell did not try to conceal his unbelief. "Do you see much of Mr. Edward Rodgers?" Kitty actually jumped at the abruptness of the question and its nature. "What earthly business is it of yours whether I see Mr. Rodgers or not?" she demanded indignantly. "It is not my business." Mitchell smiled apologetically. "It just occurred to me that he might have mentioned the Holt will contest to you." "To me?" in genuine surprise. "Why should he speak about Uncle Marcus and the contest over his will?" "Oh, I don't know," Mitchell whirled his hat about. "Mr. Rodgers was called in as a handwriting expert. It was one of his big cases, and I thought it likely he might have talked it over with you, seeing Colonel Holt was your uncle." "I doubt if Mr. Rodgers knows that we were related. From what I have seen of Mr. Rodgers," her color rose as she spoke, "I judge he seldom discusses himself or his work." "Perhaps not." Mitchell walked over to the side door and laid his hand on the knob. "I won't detain you any longer, Miss Baird. If you should think of any one who ever evinced any great interest in your aunt's fondness for peaches, just telephone me. Good afternoon." Left to herself Kitty stepped up to the fireplace and taking out the piece of mauve-colored paper held it suspended over the flames. But her clutching fingers did not relax their grasp and finally she tucked the paper in the belt of her dress. She laughed mirthlessly as she walked across the library and felt about for a box of matches. Inspector Mitchell, whether he had attained the object of his call or not, had sown seeds of suspicion. It had grown quite dark and the room, lighted only by fire, was filled with shadows. Kitty passed a nervous hand over the table ornaments--the matchbox which usually stood near the oil lamp had evidently been misplaced. She was about to look elsewhere when the sound of voices reached her. "I'se done looked an' looked," she heard Oscar say. "An' I tell yo' ole Miss never left no such papers." "Please, please keep up your search," a woman's voice pleaded. "Please, Oscar. I'll give you more than I promised--a hundred dollars more." Kitty straightened up and stared about her. The voices sounded clearly in her ears, but surely she was alone in the library? Running over to the tea table, she felt about and snatched up the much-sought matches. The next instant she was back at the lamp and a second later the room was illuminated. She was its only occupant. Where had the voices come from? As her eyes roved about the library she spied the "Dutch" door near where she was standing. The little panel in the upper half of the door had been left open and through it came faintly the sound of receding footsteps.