“Are you talking about those waistcoats?” asked Everett, coming into the room. “Yes,” Kee said, “why?” “Only that I’m puzzled. Miss Remsen says her uncle gave them to her on Tuesday, but I know that he wore the dark blue moire one on Wednesday.” “At dinner time?” Moore asked. “Yes, we don’t dress in summer, unless there are ladies here. He had it on at dinner I’m positive.” “Then it’s all part of the planted evidence,” I informed them. “Whoever staged all the foolish scene on the bed, also grabbed up two waistcoats and the Totem Pole, made a bundle of them and deposited it in Miss Remsen’s boathouse.” “Then why did she say she wanted them for patchwork——” “She didn’t at first,” I urged, not realizing where my argument led. “But she was so put about and bewildered by that fool coroner that she scarcely knew what she was saying——” “I think you scarcely know what you’re saying, Gray,” and Moore looked at me in kindly admonition. “You’d better hush up, if you don’t mind. I’m not sure Miss Remsen needs an advocate, but if she does, your incoherent babblings won’t do her any good.” Though he smiled, his tone was serious, and I began to see I was making a fool of myself. I turned on my heel and left the room, not trusting myself to hush up to the degree desired. In the sitting room, I saw Billy Dean, looking disconsolate. I was surprised, for he had seemed cheerful enough up to now. On a sudden impulse, and with a glance that he could not mistake for other than confidential, I said: “So you saw the canoe Wednesday night?” “Yes,” he said, answering my eyes rather than my words. Then realizing his slip, he said, quickly, “No, not a canoe, I heard a motor boat about midnight.” “Yes, and a canoe later,” I persisted. “Look out, Dean, I’m not investigating, I’m only anxious to help—the innocent,” I finished, a little lamely. “I don’t get you,” the young man said, stubbornly, and again the red flamed in his cheeks. “Oh, yes, you do, and please understand we’re at one in this matter. I want you to promise not to say anything about it to any one. You see, your unfortunate trick of blushing like a schoolgirl gives you away, and makes you seem to admit far more than you know. Now, before Detective March or Keeley Moore gets after you, just you tell me what you know and let me advise you. I’m as loyal to Miss Remsen as you can possibly be, even if you are in love with her and I’m not.” I made this not entirely veracious statement to set the poor chap’s mind at rest, for I could see dawning jealousy in his frank and open countenance. He responded to my sincerity of manner and tone, and speaking almost in a whisper, said: “I didn’t see her, my room is in the other wing, but I heard Alma’s paddling. I’d know her stroke among a thousand. Nobody paddles as she does.” “Oh, you couldn’t recognize a mere paddle stroke!” “Yes, I could. It’s unique, I tell you. She has a peculiar rhythm, and if you know it, it’s unmistakable.”