Women Servants.—These are Elsie Syme, Mabel Smith, Martha Forrest, Annie Holt, Lily Ingram. All except the first two account for each other over the vital times, having been in the servants’ quarters (in which the rooms are inter-communicating ) from 10.15 or so onwards. Elsie Syme, who was downstairs in the servants’ hall until the murder was discovered, and Mabel Smith, may be disregarded. They have no one to substantiate their statements, but there is no doubt at all that they are ordinary, foolish, honest working-girls. (See also note after details re Miss Hoode.) 7. Alfred Poole (Butler)—Has not a shred of alibi. Was seated, as usual, in his den opposite study all the evening. After 10 spoke to no one; was seen by nobody. May, however, be disregarded as in any way connected with murder. Will be very useful witness. May (in my opinion) be trusted implicitly. Not very intelligent. Very old, infirm, but sufficiently capable to answer questions truthfully and clearly. [Has, for one point, nothing like half strength murderer must have used.] Was devoted to deceased, whose family he has served for forty-one years. 8. Robert Belford (man-servant).—Has certain support for his own account of his actions; but not enough probably for fuller test. Nothing against him, and last man in world for crime of this type. Might possibly poison, but has neither courage nor strength enough to have murdered deceased. Seems nervous. _May_ know more than he admits, but unlikely. 9. Other Men-servants.—Harry Wright, chauffeur, and Thomas Diggle, gardener. Both not concerned. Diggle is in hospital. Wright, who lives in the lodge by the big gates, was off last night and with reputable friends in Marling village. He did not return until some time after murder had been discovered. The three lads who work under Diggle live in their homes in the village. All were at home from eight o’clock onwards last night. Anthony, having reached the end, read through the document again, more slowly this time. Boyd watched him eagerly. At last the papers were handed back to their owner. “Well, sir,” he said. “See what I mean?” “I do, Boyd, I do. But that doesn’t necessarily mean I agree, you know.” Boyd’s face fell. “Ah, sir, I know what it is. You’re wondering at an old hand like me trying to prove to you that nobody in the house could’ve done it, when all the time most of ’em haven’t got what you might call sound alibis at all. But look here, sir——” Anthony got to his feet. “Boyd, you wrong me! I like your guesses even better than your proofs. Guesses are nearly always as good as arithmetic—especially guesses by one of your experience. I didn’t say I didn’t agree with you, did I?” “You didn’t _say_ so, sir, so to speak!”