“When I got here I could find nothing of any body.” “Then it is not certain that he was murdered?” “Yes, it is.” “How do you make it out?” “He was seen after he had been murdered.” “Ha! By whom?” “One of the servants.” “And then, subsequent to that time, the body disappeared.” “That is the case.” “There is nothing back of this? Is the servant trustworthy?” “Perfectly so, I believe. I am sure that Mr. Field had the most unbounded confidence in the man.” “I must see this man presently. What opinion have you arrived at in regard to the matter?” “I have none. I cannot see daylight at all. The case puzzles me beyond anything ever presented to my mind before.” “Do you think that robbery had anything to do with it?” “No.” “Why not?” “Because so far as I can determine nothing has been taken. Nor do the servants find anything missing.” Nick began pacing the floor. Little as he had learned of the case, it had already developed some strange things. Crimes usually run in channels somewhat similar, but here had one been committed that was entirely outside of anything embraced in his own experience or heard of in that of a brother professional. At least this was promised, which fact was rather calculated than otherwise to give the case a deep interest for him. That a crime had been committed there was no question, for on every side could be found evidences of a struggle. But had that crime been of the grave one of murder? Without the presence of a dead body this was impossible to say. Finally Nick shook his head and growled something under his breath. To one who knew him well this would have implied that he was not at all pleased with the train of his thoughts. At last he said: “Let me see this man.” The servant alluded to was called. He was a man past middle life, with an honest, open face and iron gray hair. Looking at this man, Nick was impressed in his favor. Yet he questioned him as sharply as though he was suspected of being the murderer. He said, sharply: “Well, what do you know about this murder?” “Very little.” “So? You are inclined to be brief.” “I am naturally so.” “What is your name?” “Joe Timon.” “In what capacity did you serve Mr. Field?” “I was almost anything, from valet to private secretary.” “Ah! Then in all probability you were the last person who saw Mr. Field alive?” “I may have been, though I am not certain about it. Ordinarily I would have been of a certainty.” “What do you mean by that?” “I usually was the last one to enter his room at night. But last evening I had a headache and went to my own room earlier than usual.” “What was the hour?” “A few minutes past ten.” “You usually went to bed later, then?” “I did.” “At what hour?” “Between eleven and twelve generally.” “Well, you went to bed at ten last night. Now, then, how did you learn that a murder had been committed?”