"Is it possible to enter this building unperceived?" the Coroner resumed. "I should have said not," replied McGorry; "but now everything seems possible." Even the Coroner had to smile at his despondent tone. "The front door is opened at seven o'clock and closed at eleven, unless there's something special going on," McGorry continued, "and during those hours there are always one or two boys in the hall, and often three. After eleven the watchman opens the front door and takes the people up in the elevaytor. No one but meself has the key to this outside door." "Does the watchman never leave the front hall except to take people up in the elevator?" "Well, I don't say niver, sor, but he's niver far off." "Then I gather that it would be just possible for a person to get out of this house unperceived between eleven P.M. and seven A.M., but impossible, or nearly so, for him to enter?" "Yes, that's so, that's what I think, sor." "Well, what about the back door?" I asked. "Well, the back door is opened at six and closed at tin," replied McGorry. "The back door is not guarded during the day, is it?" I went on, forgetting the Coroner in my eagerness. "Doctor," broke in the latter, "allow me to conduct this inquiry. Yes, McGorry, who watches over that?" "Well, sor, at present no one; there's a back elevaytor, but it don't run in summer, as the house is almost empty." "Then, as I understand it, any one can enter or leave the building by the back stairs, at any time during the day, unseen, or at any rate unnoticed; but after ten o'clock they would require the assistance of some one in the house to let them in?" "That's so, sor." "Now, you are sure that the deceased was not a temporary inmate of this building; that he wasn't staying with any of the parties who are still here?" "Certain, sor." "And no one has the slightest clue to his identity?" "No one has seen him except these gen'l'men and Jim. He's the elevaytor boy who went for you, Doc, and he didn't say nothing about knowing him." The Coroner paused a moment. "What families have you at present in the building?" "Well, sor, most of our people are out of town, having houses at Newport, or Lenox, and thereabouts," McGorry answered, with a vague sweep of his hand, which seemed to include all those favored regions which lie so close together in fashionable geography. "Just now there are only two parties in the house." "Yes, and who are they?" "Well, sor, there's Mr. C. H. Stuart, who occupies the ground floor right; and Mr. and Mrs. Atkins, who have the apartments above this, only at the other end of the building." I pricked up my ears. Atkins, then, must be the name of the golden-haired lady and her assailant. "Have these people been here long?"