considerably loosened by the blow. But I know exactly what the wounds were, because I have examined them. I told you that I had seen Arbogast yesterday." "What!" exclaimed Dunlap, "you mean after he was wounded?" "Yes," replied Sturgis; "his body is at the morgue now. You might call there this afternoon to identify it, if you choose; but, everything considered, it might be as well not to make the identification public until we are well on the track of Chatham and our friend 'X.'" CHAPTER XII. THE BOOKKEEPER'S CONFESSION. Late that same evening, Sturgis returned to his lodgings, after a busy day spent in working upon the Knickerbocker bank case. He was tired and he was perplexed; for, with all his unflagging energy, his quick intelligence and his plodding perseverance, he had come to a standstill in his investigation. The _Evening Tempest_ had appeared with no further mention of the Quinlan case, and with only a perfunctory report of the Cab Mystery, no attempt having been made to connect the two, for Sturgis would not consent to publish his evidence until he was sure of complete success in his undertaking. As he approached the house, the reporter saw a light in his window, and inferred that a visitor was awaiting his coming. It was Mr. Dunlap, who, pale and care-worn, was striding nervously back and forth in the room, with his hands behind his back and his head bent forward upon his breast. "Ah, there you are at last!" exclaimed the banker eagerly; "I have been waiting for you for over an hour." "Has something new turned up?" asked Sturgis. "Yes; read that." At the same time Dunlap handed the reporter a letter. "Let me tell you about it first. After leaving you this morning, I went to the morgue and saw the body. You were right; it is Arbogast's. I had been only half convinced by your evidence; but I now saw that you were probably right in all your other inductions, and I became anxious to learn something definite concerning the amount of Arbogast's defalcation. As I could not reach the books for some time, I called upon Mrs. Arbogast, thinking I might be able to learn something from her. You had not been to see her, had you?" "No," answered Sturgis gravely, "I did not think it likely she knew as much about this matter as we do, and I shrank from the ordeal of revealing to her the fact of her husband's crime and tragic death. I wished, at any rate, to exhaust all other means of obtaining information before resorting to this one." "Of course, of course," said Dunlap somewhat impatiently; "the woman is naturally to be pitied; but I could not allow any sentimental consideration to stand in the way of the discharge of my duty to our depositors." "What did you learn from her?" asked the reporter.