a matter of fact, he wrote making an appointment to meet me yesterday, but did not keep it."
"From that you conclude he is dead?"
"Combined with various other circumstances."
"Well, Graham, it's hardly satisfactory, you'll admit," observed Hugh. And then he added: "Of course, if you refuse to tell me anything else, I can do nothing."
"Excuse me, Mr. Hugh," answered the solicitor blandly. "You can go to the mortuary at once and identify the body."
"If I fail, what then?"
"I don't think you will fail," replied Graham, with a meaning smile.
"You'll come and assist me?"
"I shall be very pleased to accompany you, but must claim your indulgence for a few moments while I put away these papers;" and he commenced gathering up the scattered documents and replacing them in the box.
When he had finished he locked it carefully, and then, struggling into his overcoat, and putting on his hat, he followed Hugh Trethowen out.
An hour later they returned and reseated themselves.
"The whole affair is so enshrouded in mystery that I doubt very much whether the murderer will ever be discovered," Graham remarked, taking up some letters that had been placed upon his table during his absence.
"I agree with you. It's a most remarkable crime."
"But, after all, what's the use of puzzling one's brain?" the solicitor asked. "You inherit the estate, with an income that should keep you in luxury for the remainder of your days, therefore why trouble about it?"
