Of his sanity up to the day of his master's death there was no question; but more than one man with whom he had had dealings was ready to testify that there had been a change in his manner for the past few weeks--a sort of subdued excitement, quite unlike his former methodical bearing. He had shown an inclination to testiness, and was less easily pleased than formerly. To one clerk he had shown a nasty spirit under very slight provocation, and was only endured in the store on account of his master, who was too good a customer for them to offend. Mr. Kelly, a grocer, went so far as to say he acted like a man with a grievance who burned to vent his spite on some one, but held himself in forcible restraint. Perhaps if no tragedy had taken place in the house on ---- Street these various persons would not have been so ready to interpret thus unfavorably a nervousness excusable enough in one so cut off from all communication with his kind. But with the violent end of his master in view, and his own unexplained connection with it, who could help recalling that his glance had frequently shown malevolence? But this was not evidence of the decided character required by the law, and Mr. Gryce was about to regard the day as a lost one, when Sweetwater made his reappearance at Headquarters. The expression of his face put new life into Mr. Gryce. "What!" he cried, "you have not found her?" Sweetwater smiled. "Don't ask me, sir, not yet. I've come to see if there's any reason why I should not be given the loan of that parasol for about an hour. I'll bring it back. I only want to make a certain test with it." "What test, my boy? May I ask, what test?" "Please to excuse me, sir; I have only a short time in which to act before respectable business houses shut up for the night, and the test I speak of has to be made in a respectable house." "Then you shall not be hindered. Wait here, and I will bring you the parasol. There! bring it back soon, my boy. I have not the patience I used to have." "An hour, sir; give me an hour, and then----" The shutting of the door behind his flying figure cut short his sentence. That was a long hour to Mr. Gryce, or would have been if it had not mercifully been cut short by the return of Sweetwater in an even more excited state of mind than he had been before. He held the parasol in his hand. "My test failed," said he, "but the parasol has brought me luck, notwithstanding. I have found the lady, sir, and----" He had to draw a long breath before proceeding. "And she is what I said," began the detective; "a respectable person in a respectable house." "Yes, sir; very respectable, more respectable than I expected to see. Quite a lady, sir. Not young, but----" "Her name, boy. Is it--Evelyn?" Sweetwater shook his head with a look as naive in its way as the old detective's question. "I cannot say, sir. Indeed, I had not the courage to ask. She is here----"