Geason was an ambitious young medical man who had set up in Troy a year previously, and was trying hard to scrape a practice together. He was well aware that such a case as this would give him a much-desired publicity, and consequently expressed himself profoundly grateful to Derrick for the job. Then he knelt beside the body and made an examination, while Tracey, who had returned, questioned the inspector. "Found out anything?" he asked. "Only that the woman was a visitor to this house," and Derrick pointed out the cloak and hat. "Strange," said the American. "Wonder what she meant making free with a man's house in his absence?" "Are you sure Mr. Fane's at the seaside?" "Certain. Miss Baldwin was told by Miss Mason--and she's Mrs. Fane's sister--that they would stay a month. Westcliff-on-Sea is the place. Miss Mason got a letter yesterday. Fane was there then." "It is an easy run from Westcliff-on-Sea to this place," responded Derrick dryly. "A man can fetch this house from there in a couple of hours. But I don't suspect Mr. Fane." "He might be the man with the latch-key." "No." Derrick thought of the key being new. "I don't think so. Did any young man stay in this house?" "Not that I know of. You'd better ask Miss Mason. I know nothing about this ranche. Well, doctor?" "She's been dead nearly five hours," said Geason, rising. "Nonsense," said Derrick. "She was alive at eleven, and it's not one o'clock yet." "I don't know about that," persisted Geason, "but from the condition of the body and the lack of warmth, I say she has been dead five hours." Derrick and Tracey looked at one another perplexed. If the doctor was right--and he seemed positive--this unknown person could not have been the woman who sang "Kathleen Mavourneen." "There's four of them," said Tracey; "two women and two men." Derrick shook his head. The case was too mysterious for him to venture an opinion. CHAPTER III THE BALDWINS "Maryanneliza, do keep the children quiet. The bad twins are fighting with the good twins, and the odd ones are making such a noise that I can't finish this story." "Well, ma'am, there's so much to be done. The breakfast's to clear away, and the washing to be counted, and----" "Oh, don't trouble me," cried Mrs. Baldwin, settling herself on the sofa. "It's one of my bad days. What Miss Mason will think of the way this house is kept, I don't know. What do I pay you wages for?" "It's little enough I get," said Mary Ann Eliza, firing up. "More than you're worth," retorted her mistress. "If you were a mother, with seven orphans to keep, you might talk. Where's Miss Gerty?" "Gone to see Mr. Tracey at the factory."