“Oh, as for that,” said Trafford, “I propose to agree to nothing. As matters stand, the inquest ’ll go on within a day or two. I know you were in Millbank the night of the murder, and with no assurance from any one that your visit had nothing to do with the murder, I’m compelled, absolutely compelled, to ask the coroner to summons you. On the other hand, if I’m satisfied, there’s no reason for me to tell any one that I know you were there, and nothing to induce the coroner to summons you. At the same time, I don’t agree to anything as to the future. That must depend upon facts, and you know better than I do now whether there are any that would call for you.” “Humph!” grunted Matthewson; “then it’s this: I assure you what you ask and I’m not to be summoned until you see fit to summon me, and if I don’t, you see fit to summon me at once.” “That’s about it,” assented Trafford. Matthewson sat for a few minutes thinking, and Trafford sat watching him. He was tall and slim, with a rather prepossessing face--well-dressed, in fact, a “swell,” as Jim Shepard had said. His face was far from a dull one. His mother had evidently given him something of her personality. Yet, a man less on his guard against impressions than the detective might find something in his face that he did not like,--a look of cunning lurking in the half-closed eyes, a want of feeling in the lines of the mouth. He was a man who would go far to accomplish his ends, but would not be willingly cruel, perhaps because he could not understand that to be cruel which was for his own interest. Yet, what of a fight that involved life and honour? Trafford at least knew that it is only then that the hidden forces come to the surface and the man himself stands complete. Suddenly Matthewson turned, and with a side glance at the waiting detective said: “I assure you that my visit to Millbank had nothing to do directly or indirectly with Mr. Wing’s death.” “That’s all I want,” the detective said. “I gave him credit for being sharper than that,” Matthewson said to himself, as the door closed behind his visitor. “Now I’ve got to find out,” Trafford noted, “how that visit did concern Wing. I’ll test Matthewson’s conclusion before I accept it.” CHAPTER V The Weapon is Produced The inquest reconvened with an increase rather than a decrease of interest on the part of the public. This was due in part to the renewed attention aroused by the funeral, which had been one of the most imposing ever had in Millbank; and in part to the rewards for the detection of the murderer offered by Mrs. Parlin and the selectmen of the town. In addition, the County Court had instructed the county attorney to be present at further sittings, to assist the coroner, and the town had employed its own counsel for the same purpose. Mary Mullin was the first witness. “You are the help at Mrs. Parlin’s?” the coroner asked. “I be.” “How long have you been so employed?” “Twenty-five year this coming July.”