I practically echoed the district attorney's words, for I knew Lemuel Porter to be a clear-headed and well-balanced business man, and his opinions well worth having. So it was to two very interested hearers that I related first the story of Florence's coming downstairs at eleven o'clock on the fatal night, for a final endeavor to gain her uncle's consent to her betrothal. “Then it was her bag!” exclaimed Mr. Porter. “I thought so all the time.” I said nothing at the moment and listened for Mr. Goodrich's comment. “To my mind,” said the district attorney slowly, “this story, told now by Miss Lloyd, is in her favor. If the girl were guilty, or had any guilty knowledge of the crime, she would not have told of this matter at all. It was not forced from her; she told it voluntarily, and I, for one, believe it.” “She told it,” said I, “because she wished to take the responsibility of the fallen rose petals upon herself. Since we are speaking plainly, I may assure you, gentlemen, that she told of her later visit to the office because I hinted to her that the yellow leaves might implicate Gregory Hall.” “Then,” said Mr. Goodrich triumphantly, “she herself suspects Mr. Hall, which proves that she is innocent.” “It doesn't prove her innocent of collusion,” observed Mr. Porter. “Nor does it prove that she suspects Mr. Hall,” I added. “It merely shows that she fears others may suspect him.” “It is very complicated,” said the district attorney. “It is,” I agreed, “and that is why I wish to send for the famous detective, Fleming Stone.” “Stone! Nonsense!” exclaimed Mr. Goodrich. “I have every confidence in your skill, Mr. Burroughs; I would not insult you by calling in another detective.” “Surely not,” agreed Mr. Porter. “If you need help, Mr. Burroughs, confer with our local man, Mr. Parmalee. He's a pretty clever chap, and I don't know why you two don't work more together.” “We do work together,” said I. “Mr. Parmalee is both clever and congenial, and we have done our best in the matter. But the days are going by and little of real importance has been discovered. However, I haven't told you as yet, the story of the gold bag. I have found its owner.” Of course there were exclamations of surprise at this, but realizing its importance they quietly listened to my story. With scarcely a word of interruption from my hearers, I told them how I had found the card in the bag, how I had learned about Mrs. Purvis from headquarters, how I had gone to see her, and how it had all resulted in Mrs. Cunningham's visit to Miss Lloyd that morning. “Well!” exclaimed Mr. Porter, as I concluded the narrative. “Well! Of all things! Well, I am amazed! Why, this gives a wide scope of possibilities. Scores of our people come out on that theatre train every night.” “But not scores of people would have a motive for putting Joseph Crawford out of the way,” said Mr. Goodrich, who sat perplexedly frowning.