"Other men smoke those, too, I assume." "Well, then, the check, which this stub shows to have been drawn to-day to you. Where is that?" "Not in my possession. If my aunt made that out to me it was doubtless for a present and she may have sent it to me in a letter; in which case it will reach my city address to-morrow morning, or she may have put it somewhere up here for safe keeping. "All most unlikely," said Mr. Chapin, shaking his head. "Did Mrs. Pell send any letters to the post-office to-day, does any one know?" Campbell was called, and he said that his mistress had given him a number of letters to mail when he took Miss Clyde to church that morning. "Was one of them directed to Mr. Bannard," asked Hughes. "How should I know?" said the chauffeur, turning red. "Oh, it's no crime to glance at the addresses on envelopes," said Hughes, encouragingly. "Curiosity may not be an admirable trait, but it isn't against the law. And it will help us a lot if you can answer my question." "Then, no, sir, there wasn't," and Campbell looked ashamed but positive. "And there was no other chance for Mrs. Pell to mail a letter to-day?" went on Hughes. "No, sir; none of us has been to the village since, and the post-office closes at noon on Sunday anyhow." "All that proves nothing," said Bannard, impatiently. "If my aunt drew that check to me it is probably still in this room somewhere, and if not it is quite likely she destroyed it, in a sudden change of mind. She has done that before, in my very presence. You know, Mr. Chapin, how uncertain her decisions are." "That's true," the lawyer agreed, "I've drawn up papers for her often, only to have her tear them up before my very eyes, and demand a document of exactly opposite intent." "So, you see," insisted Bannard, who had regained his composure, "that check means nothing, the New York newspaper is not incriminating and the cigarette is not enough to prove my guilty presence at the time of this crime. Unless the police force of Berrien can do better than that, I suggest getting a worthwhile detective from the city." Hughes looked angrily at the speaker, but said nothing. "That is not a bad suggestion," said Chapin. "This is a big crime and a most mysterious one. It involves the large fortune of Mrs. Pell, which, I happen to know, was mostly invested in jewels. These gems she has so secretly and securely hidden that even I have not the remotest idea where they are. Is it not conceivable that they were in that wall-safe, and have been stolen by the murderer?" "Good Lord!" exclaimed Hughes. "I didn't know she kept her fortune here!" "Nor do I know it," returned Chapin. "But, doubtless, something of value was in that safe, now empty, and I only surmise that it may have been her great collection of precious stones." "Have you her will?" asked Bannard, abruptly. "Yes, her latest one," replied Chapin. "You know she made a new one on the average of once a month or so." "Who inherits?"