couldn't have concealed it much longer."
"Ah?" de Grandin's narrow brows elevated slightly. "And they were happy together?"
"Yes, sir! You never saw a spoonier couple in your life. Can you imagine"
"Tiens, my friend," the Frenchman interrupted with one of his quick, elfish grins, "you would be surprized at that which I can imagine. Howeverly, let us consider facts, not imaginings." Rising, he began pacing the floor, ticking off his data on his fingers as he marched. "Let us make a précis:
"Here we have two young women, one in love, though married—the other in love and affianced. They fail to keep an appointment; it is not till the day following that their car is discovered, and it is found in such position as to indicate a wreck, yet nowhere near it is sign of injury to its passengers. Alors, what do we find? The frock of one of the young ladies, neatly folded beside her shoes and stockings upon a rock near the Shaminee Falls. In the river, some miles below, next day is found the floating corpse of the other girl—and the circumstances point conclusively that she did not drown. What now? The mishap to the car occurred a half-mile from the river, yet the young women were able to walk to the stream where one of them cast herself in fully clothed; the other is supposed to have disrobed before immersing herself.
"Non, non, my friends, the facts, they do not make sense. Women kill themselves for good reasons, for bad reasons, and for no reasons at all, but they do it characteristically. Me, I have seen ropes wherewith despondent females have strangled themselves, and they have wrapped silken scarves about the rough hemp that it might not bruise their tender necks. Tiens, would a delicately nurtured girl strip herself to the rude March winds before plunging into the water? I think not."
"So do I," rumbled Costello's heavy voice in agreement. "Th' way you put it, Dr. de Grandin, sor, makes th' case crazier than ever. Faith, there's no sense to it from beginnin' to end. I think we'd better be callin' it a day an' acceptin' th' coroner's decision."
"Zut!" de Grandin returned with a smile. "Are you then so poor a poker player, mon sergent? Have you not learned the game is never over until the play is done? Me, I shall give this matter niy personal attention. I am interested, I am fascinated, I am intrigued.
"To your home, Monsieur Wilberding," he ordered. "When I have some word for you, you will hear from me. Meantime do not despair."
"Trowbridge, mon vieux," de
Grandin greeted next morning
when I joined him in the dining-room,
"I am perplexed: but yes, I am
greatly puzzled; I am mystified.
Something has occurred since last
night which may put a different face
upon all. Consider, if you please:
Half an hour ago I received a telephone call from the good Costello.
He tells me three more young women
have disappeared in a manner so similar to that of Monsieur Wilberding's
sweetheart as to make it more than
mere coincident. At the residence of one
Monsieur Mason, who resides in West
Fells, there was held a meeting of the
sorority to which his daughter belongs. Many young women attended.
Three, Mesdemoiselles Weaver, Damroche and Hornbury, drove out in the
car of Alademoiselle Weaver. They
left the Mason house sometime after
midnight. At 6 o'clock this morning
they had not returned home. Their
alarmed parents notified the police,
and"—he paused in his restless pacing, halting directly before me as he
continued—"a state dragoon discovered the motor in which they rode
