For a moment Carter was silent. “It was not suicide,” said he, looking at Opal. “It was the greater crime--murder!” She started like one electrified. “Another murder? I want to see him avenged, even if I have hands that are red! I want you to take the trail of his slayer. You will do this, Mr. Carter? You won’t refuse to become the servant of your human quarry?” “It is no mystery,” was the reply. “The murder of your father is not a puzzle!” “Then you know----” “I know, for I have a living witness.” Opal was silent; but her deep eyes seemed to pierce the detective through and through. “I’m calm now. Name him.” At this moment the front door opened and some one came in. “It is Claude, my brother,” said the girl, scarcely above a whisper. “Wait a minute. He may go upstairs.” Carter looked toward the door and seemed to smile. “Call him in here. His coming will answer the question you have just put.” Opal sprang across the carpet and opened the door, revealing the figure of Claude in the main hall. “This way, Claude,” said she. “A gentleman wants to see you.” It was a lightning glance that passed from the hallway to the man in the parlor. Claude Lamont knew the detective at once. He hesitated, but Opal clutched his sleeve and pulled him forward by main force. “You know this man. It is the trailer,” she said. A dark scowl came to the young man’s face. “I know him!” he almost hissed. The next instant the daughter turned again to Carter and exclaimed: “Now, go on. You said you knew who killed father. Name the murderer.” The hand of the detective was raised as his figure straightened, and in a second it covered the young man before him. “There’s the man!” was all he said. Though he spoke in low tones the words seemed to ring throughout the handsome parlor. Claude Lamont grew white and Opal fell back. Suddenly, however, she started forward and paused in front of her speechless brother. “Is it true?” she cried. There was no answer. “You must speak! You must tell the truth. My hands are red and yours seem to be! You have heard this merciless trailer. He says you are a parricide! Is it true? Before Heaven, answer me, Claude Lamont!” The lips of the young sport moved, but no words issued forth. He seemed to have been struck with palsy. “You heard me, murderer!” cried Opal, flinging herself upon her brother. “You must not stand there like a log and say nothing. You shall tell the truth. You did it.” Claude flung her off and she nearly toppled against the mahogany table. “I did it, and under the circumstances I would do it again!” he exclaimed. “He was coming at me like a wild beast, and I had to fight or perish.” “Swear this!” cried the girl. Claude raised one hand above his head. “Where did you find him?” “On the street.” “But you did not bring him home?” “I did not. I took him to one of our houses----” “And killed him there? Murderer!”