Wiggly Price's ears twitched violently, for he, unlike the others--and he, too, would have doubtless overlooked it but for the black hairpin and the gossip Etta Griggs had given him--had observed her agitation when told that Sarbella had practically been removed as a suspect, and her surprise and the relaxing tenseness when she learned of the other. Did this mean that she had knowledge of the crime, which, for reasons of her own, she had kept to herself? With this Wiggly linked still another question: Why had Joan Sheridan been so positive of Victor Sarbella's innocence? For Wiggly was of the opinion that "woman's intuition" is something greatly exaggerated. The answer to the latter question was in itself unimportant; for that matter, so had Kirklan Gilmore been certain, to the point of vigorous protest, that the artist had not fired the fatal shot. Wiggly made up his mind then and there that, while Constable Griggs was searching for Don Haskins, he would be searching for the answer to Joan Sheridan's puzzling behavior. He was certain there must be something behind it, a vital something that would have an important bearing on the crime. Doctor Bushnell had completed dressing Mrs. Bogart's wound, having delayed restoratives until this was done. Now he was chafing her wrists briskly, and the woman was showing signs of coming to her senses. With startling suddenness her eyes flew open, and she sat erect; since her first conscious thought was a return to the moment of her swoon, a fresh cry of terror burst from her throat. It trailed off into a gurgle, as she realized that she was not now alone. "It's all right, Mrs. Bogart," the physician told her soothingly. "You've had a nasty fall and cut yourself a little on those broken jars; but it's nothing to worry about." "That man!" cried Mrs. Bogart. "Where--where did he go? It's Heaven's own blessing that he didn't murder me in my tracks. He was peering out at me, and everything went dizzy black in front of me. I----" "Her head ain't right yet," grunted Constable Griggs. Mrs. Bogart, letting her heavy fingers touch gingerly to her bandaged face, heard the local officer's skeptical remark and bridled in indignation. "I tell you I seen him!" she shrilled, pointing to the door which closed off the third-floor stairs. "I seen him behind there. He was holdin' the door shut on me. I was takin' these jars up to the storeroom. I seen him--lookin' out at me through the crack. He's there now, if he didn't run out. I tell you I seen him!" All four of the men exchanged quick, startled, almost incredulous glances. The same thought had leaped into all their minds. Sergeant Tish, staring at the closed door, mechanically hitched his gun holster within easier reach. "Do you think it's possible, men, that she did see a man, and that he is----" began Doctor Bushnell.