“It has been ascertained,” continued Grimsby, “that Ryder went out at eight o’clock on the night of the murder and didn’t return until after ten. He was interrogated. Listen to this, Mr. Klaw, and tell me why I haven’t arrested him! He admitted that he was the man who rang the bell; he admitted being closeted with Heidelberger in the library; and he admitted that he was in the hall when the Jew met his death!” “Good!” said Moris Klaw. “And he is still at large?” “He is! He’s made no attempt to run away. I had his room searched, and found a light coat with both sleeves bloodstained! He had a cut on his left hand such as might be caused by the slash of a pocket knife! He said he had caught his hand on a door-latch, but blankly declined to say what he was doing here on the night of the murder! Yet, I didn’t arrest him! Why?” “Why?” said Moris Klaw. “Tell me.” “Because I didn’t think it feasible that a man of his age could wield that ax--and I hoped to use Ryder as a trap to catch his accomplice!” “Ah! clever!” rumbled Moris Klaw. “French, Mr. Grimsby! Subtle! But you have just seen what a poor old fool can do with that ax!” I have never observed a man so suddenly lose faith in himself as did Grimsby at those words. He flushed, he paled; he seemed to become speechless. “Tell me, Mr. Grimsby,” said Klaw, “what does the suspected man do that is suspicious? What letters does he write? What letters does he receive?” “None!” replied the now angry Grimsby. “But he visits Doctor Madden, in Uxley, every day.” “What for, eh?” “The doctor says the interviews are of a purely professional nature, and I can’t very well suspect a man in his position!” “You have done two silly things,” rumbled Moris Klaw. “You have wasted much time in the matter of Ryder, and you have accepted, unquestioned, the word of a doctor. Mr. Grimsby, I have known doctors who were most inspired liars!” “Then you are of opinion----” Klaw raised his hand. “It is Doctor Madden we shall visit,” he said. “This Ryder cannot escape us. Isis, my child, I need not have troubled you. This is so simple a case that we need no ‘mental negatives’ to point out to us the culprit!” “Mr. Klaw----” began Grimsby, excitedly. “My friend,” he was answered, “I shall make a few examinations and then we shall be off to Uxley. The assassin returns to London with us by the 3:45 train!” IV As we drove through the village street, in the car which Grimsby had hired, upon the gate of one of the last cottages a tall, white-haired old man was leaning. His clear-cut, handsome features wore an expression of haggard sorrow. “There he is!” rapped Grimsby. “Hadn’t I better make the arrest at once?” “Ah, no, my friend!” protested Klaw. “But stop--I have something to say to him.” The car stopping, Moris Klaw descended and approached the old man, who perceptibly paled at sight of us. “Good day, Mr. Ryder!” Klaw courteously saluted the ex-butler. “Good day to you, sir,” replied the old man, civilly.