“But don’t they see,” he remonstrated, “if this was the case, Trafford would have been the last to turn suspicion upon Oldbeg?” “They don’t see anything!” exclaimed Hunter impatiently. “They’re simply hanging-mad. They believe Trafford too smart not to have solved this thing in a fortnight, and at the same time they believe him a big enough fool to have sold himself. They think Oldbeg guilty, because there’s nobody else in sight, and because they think him guilty, they must believe that Trafford and Mrs. Parlin are protecting him. Therefore, Mrs. Parlin must be guilty too, and therefore, again, Trafford must be trying to cover up the facts.” Hunter expressed in his somewhat querulous tone much of the feeling that prevailed in the business community. Men felt it a disgrace that an unprovoked murder could occur under their very eyes, as it were, and remain without the slightest progress towards solution for more than a fortnight. In a large community, the police would have come in for sneers and ridicule. In this case, the detective had to bear the brunt of the complaints. Hunter, intent for the good name of the town, suggested finally that a subscription reward be offered in addition to that of the county and town and that offered by Mrs. Parlin. He was willing to guarantee a substantial sum. “I think also,” he said, “we should put another detective to work. I can’t see any harm if Trafford is on the square, and it may do a lot of good if he isn’t.” “It’s against all principle to put a case into two men’s hands,” McManus objected. “We certainly ought to dismiss the one before we hire a second.” “We haven’t hired the first yet,” Hunter answered roughly. “We can’t object to Mrs. Parlin employing a detective, if she wants to; but she as certainly can’t object to our doing the same thing. If, however, we put a man to work, let him keep his hands off that statement of Judge Parlin’s.” McManus started. “You think it genuine?” Hunter looked as if the question tired him. He was a tall dark man, with an unusually expressive face, and was not accustomed to concealing his feelings. “That’s more of your horse-play. Whether the paper’s genuine or not can’t have any bearing on the murder. It isn’t to be imagined, if it’s a forgery, that there was a purpose to make it public after the principals in the affair were dead. It’s a false scent and meant to be a false scent.”