There was no answering contempt in Chester Kent’s voice as he replied, “But a ring, constantly worn and then removed, leaves an unmistakable mark. Perhaps she gave you greater credit for powers of observation than you deserve. I’m afraid, Frank, that she is a married woman; and I’m sure, from reading between your lines, that she is a good woman. What the connection between her and the corpse on the beach may be, is the problem. My immediate business is to discover who the dead woman is.” “And mine,” said Sedgwick hoarsely, “to discover the living.” “We’ll at least start together,” replied Kent. “Come!” Capacity for silence, that gift of the restful gods, was possessed by both men. Intent, each upon his own thoughts, they strode up the hillside and descended into a byway where stood a light runabout, empty. Throwing on the switch, Kent motioned his companion to get in. Twenty minutes of curving and dodging along the rocky roads brought them to the turnpike, in sight of the town of Annalaka. Not until then did Kent offer a word. “The inquest is set for eleven o’clock,” he said. “All right,” said Sedgwick with equal taciturnity. They turned a corner, and ran into the fringe of a crowd hovering about the town hall. Halting his machine in a bit of shade, Kent surveyed the gathering. At one point it thickened about a man who was talking eagerly, the vocal center of a small circle of silence. “Elder Dennett,” said Kent, “back from Cadystown. You’ll have to face the music now.” “I’m ready.” “You’re ready for attack. Are you ready for surprises?” “No one is ever ready for surprise, or it wouldn’t be surprise, would it?” “True enough. One word of warning: don’t lose your head or your temper if the suspicion raised against you by Dennett is strengthened by me.” “By you!” “Unfortunately. My concern is to get to the bottom of this matter. There is something the sheriff knows that I don’t know. Probably it is the identity of the body. To force him into the open, it may be necessary for me to augment the case against you.” “Ought I to be ready for arrest?” “Hardly probable at present. No; go on the stand when you’re called, and tell the truth, and nothing but the truth.” “But not the whole truth?” “Nothing of the necklace. You won’t be questioned about that. By the way, you have never kept among your artistic properties anything in the way of handcuffs, have you?” “No.” “I didn’t suppose you had. Those manacles are a sticker. I don’t—I absolutely do _not_ like those manacles. And on one wrist only! Perhaps that is the very fact, though—Well, we shall know more when we’re older; two hours older, say. Whether we shall know all that Mr. Sheriff Len Schlager knows, is another question. I don’t like Mr. Schlager, either, for that matter.” “Dennett has seen me,” said Sedgwick in a low voice.