“Let us all go,” said Rodney Granniss. “I want to learn all about this case, and we’re entitled to know.” “Come on, everybody,” Dunn invited, “I want to ask a lot of questions and who knows where I may get the best and most unexpected answers.” Granniss and Lawrence North, with Ted Landon and John Clark, who had been up on the Headland in the afternoon, were the men, and Mrs Blackwood and her young guest, Eleanor Varian were the only women present. Yet Dunn seemed well satisfied as he looked over the group. “Fine,” he said, “all the witnesses I wanted, and all here together.” “We didn’t witness anything,” offered John Clark, who was apparently by no means desirous of taking part in the colloquy. “And, as I’ve an engagement, can’t you question me first, and let me go?” “Sure I can,” returned Dunn, whose easy manners were not at all curbed by the more formal attitude of those about him. “Just tell the story in your own way, son.” Clark resented the familiar speech, but said nothing to that effect. “There’s little to tell,” he began; “I’d never been up to Headland House before, and of course I’d never before met the Varians,—any of them. I went on Mrs Blackwood’s invitation, and after meeting the family and their guests on the veranda, we all started for a picnic. We had reached a point half way down the steep path from the house, when Miss Betty Varian said she had forgotten her camera. She returned to the house for it, and we waited. She was gone so long, that we wondered,—and then, her father went to hurry her up. He, too, was gone a long time, and then, Doctor Varian and Ted Landon went after him. That’s my story. Landon can tell you the rest.” “I know the rest,” said Dunn, shortly; “I don’t see, Mr Clark, that you need remain. Your evidence is merely that of all the party who stayed behind while the others went up to the house.” “Yes,” said Clark, with a sigh of relief, and making his adieux, he went away. “Have you formed any theory of the crime, Mr Dunn?” asked Lawrence North, who was consumed with impatient curiosity, during the already known testimony of Clark. “Not a definite one,” Dunn replied, seeming by his manner to invite advice or discussion. “It is too mysterious to theorize about.” “By Jove, it is!” North agreed; “I never heard of a case so absolutely strange. I’d like to get into that house and see for myself.” “See what for yourself Mr North?” “Whether there’s any secret passage—but, of course you’ve looked for that?” “Yes; thoroughly. I’m of an architectural mind,——” “So is Mr North,” said Mrs Blackwood. “He designed this bungalow we’re in now.” “Are you an architect, Mr North?” “Not by profession, but I’m fond of it. And I flatter myself I could discover a secret passage if such existed.” “I flatter myself I could, too,” said Dunn, but not boastfully. “Yet, I may have overlooked it. I’d be obliged, Mr North, if you’d come up to the house, and give it the once over. You might spot what I failed to see.”