"And Rosie!" I ejaculated.

Riggs grinned sheepishly.

"I only wanted to make sure Miss Louise was there. Rosie started to

run, and I tried to stop her and tell her some sort of a story to

account for my being there. But she wouldn't wait."

"And the broken china--in the basket?"

"Well, broken china's death to rubber tires," he said. "I hadn't any

complaint against you people here, and the Dragon Fly was a good car."

So Rosie's highwayman was explained.

"Well, I telegraphed the doctor where Miss Louise was and I kept an eye

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on her. Just a day or so before they came home with the body, I got

another letter, telling me to watch for a woman who had been pitted

with smallpox. Her name was Carrington, and the doctor made things

pretty strong. If I found any such woman loafing around, I was not to

lose sight of her for a minute until the doctor got back.

"Well, I would have had my hands full, but the other woman didn't show

up for a good while, and when she did the doctor was home."

"Riggs," I asked suddenly, "did you get into this house a day or two

after I took it, at night?"

"I did not, Miss Innes. I have never been in the house before. Well,

the Carrington woman didn't show up until the night Mr. Halsey

disappeared. She came to the office late, and the doctor was out. She

waited around, walking the floor and working herself into a passion.

When the doctor didn't come back, she was in an awful way. She wanted

me to hunt him, and when he didn't appear, she called him names; said

he couldn't fool her. There was murder being done, and she would see

him swing for it.

"She struck me as being an ugly customer, and when she left, about

eleven o'clock, and went across to the Armstrong place, I was not far

behind her. She walked all around the house first, looking up at the

windows. Then she rang the bell, and the minute the door was opened

she was through it, and into the hall."

"How long did she stay?"

"That's the queer part of it," Riggs said eagerly. "She didn't come

out that night at all. I went to bed at daylight, and that was the

last I heard of her until the next day, when I saw her on a truck at

the station, covered with a sheet. She'd been struck by the express

and you would hardly have known her--dead, of course. I think she

stayed all night in the Armstrong house, and the agent said she was

crossing the track to take the up-train to town when the express struck

her."

"Another circle!" I exclaimed. "Then we are just where we started."




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