"Yes. I gathered from Mrs. Winthrop that Hamilton has been drinking steadily, and his conduct to the other servants grew intolerable. Senator Carew had to discharge him." "When did that happen?" "Yesterday afternoon." "Then, how was it that he was driving the carriage last night?" "Oh, Carew gave him a week's notice, said he couldn't fill his place at once, and told him to stay on. Joshua tells me that Hamilton uttered some ugly threats in the kitchen that evening, but that the servants paid no attention to his black humor, as they saw he had been drinking." "I see in the papers that Hamilton vehemently declares his innocence." "He does," agreed Brett, checking his remarks off on his fingers; "he declares he did not see Senator Carew after being discharged by him; that no one was in the carriage when he drove away from the stable at midnight; that he went directly to Mrs. Owen's residence; and that he does not know when or how Senator Carew's body was secreted in the carriage." "The plot thickens," muttered Douglas. "Do you believe his statements?" "I do, and I don't. The servants all declare that he was half drunk; therefore, I doubt if he was in a condition to pay much attention to anything, or that his statements can be relied on. He was sobered by the shock of finding Carew's body in his carriage, and, when I arrested him, collapsed from fright." "Well, judging from the facts you have just told me, I don't much believe he killed Carew." "Why not?" argued Brett. "Hamilton was apparently half out of his mind from rage and drink, and his brute nature made him seek revenge. It's quite possible Carew entered the carriage thinking it would not be safe for his niece to drive home alone from the dance, and Hamilton took that opportunity to kill him." "I read in the evening paper that Hamilton was told to stop at the house for one of the maids, but, instead, drove directly from the stable to the dance," said Douglas. "Therefore Carew did not enter the carriage at this door." "Hamilton may have been too befogged with drink to have remembered the order," suggested the detective. "I grant you, Brett," said Douglas thoughtfully, "that the negro may have the nature, the desire, and the opportunity to commit murder--but why select such a weapon?" "Probably picked up the first thing at hand," grunted Brett. "But a desk file is not the 'first thing at hand' in a stable," remarked Douglas calmly. "In fact, it's the last thing you would expect to find there." "I don't know about that; perhaps it was thrown away in a wastepaper basket, and Hamilton may have picked it out of the ash pile," suggested Brett. "What did the file look like?"