“GOOD morning, Uncle Dana.”  
The tall, looking, gray-haired man in front of the mantel wheeled around with a visible start of surprise.
 
“Good Lord! Eleanor, I didn’t hear you enter the room. How silently you move, dear.”
 
Eleanor’s pretty mouth dimpled into a smile as she kissed her uncle warmly. “I’ll send you an ear-trumpet,” she declared, . “Come and sit by me on this sofa. Did you get my note this morning?”
 
“How like a woman!” He dropped down on the comfortable rosewood sofa with a sigh of content. “Of course I received it—why otherwise should I be here?”
 
“Then you will take the case?” she asked eagerly.
 
“I am not a criminal lawyer.”
 
 
Eleanor’s face fell. “Oh, don’t refuse,” she begged earnestly. “Dear Mrs. Winthrop needs some one to watch her interests, and if, later on, occasion requires a criminal lawyer, which pray Heaven may not be, you can then engage one for her. She was so relieved when I suggested sending for you.”
 
“In what way does Mrs. Winthrop need my services?”
 
“Why, to take charge of everything”—vaguely. “A man in authority is required here at once.”
 
“Where is Philip?”
 
“Philip!” Eleanor’s tone her contempt. “He is sick in bed—a trained nurse in attendance”—then added quickly, answering her uncle’s unspoken question—“too much dissipation has again caused his downfall.”
 
“Um! I don’t envy Mrs. Winthrop her precious stepson.” Colonel Thornton’s pleasant face hardened, and Eleanor, seeing her advantage, pressed the point.
 
“Mrs. Winthrop is almost overwhelmed with anxiety and sorrow, which she has practically to face alone. Do, Uncle Dana, if it is possible, take some of this dreadful responsibility off her shoulders.”
 
“I will do what I can,” announced the Colonel, after a moment’s deliberation.
 
Eleanor clapped her hands. “Dear Uncle Dana! I knew you would, when you thought it over. Just a moment—I’ll send word to Mrs. Winthrop that you are here; she wants to see you.”
 
Joshua was in the hall, and to him Eleanor her message for Mrs. Winthrop, then returned to the drawing-room and seated herself on the sofa by her uncle.
 
“Did you ever know anyone in Georgetown named Douglas Hunter?” she inquired.
 
“Douglas Hunter—Douglas—why, surely, he must be the young son of John Hunter who used to be a neighbor of mine in Georgetown. Cousin Kate Truxton can tell you all about the Hunters. She was an intimate friend of John’s wife. The Hunters belong to the F. F. V.’s. Why do you ask about Douglas?”
 
“Joshua told me that he spent last night here, and that he is taking a deep interest in the mystery surrounding Senator Carew’s death.”
 
“You must be mistaken,” exclaimed Thornton, glancing at her in surprise. “To the best of my recollection Douglas Hunter entered the service very soon after he left college; then Carew evinced an interest in his career and had him transferred into the Diplomatic Service. He’s not a detective, child.”
 
“Well, he’s as if he were one—prying around”—Eleanor checked her hasty speech and rose as the portières parted, and Mrs. Winthrop advanced into the room. She was a well-known figure in Washington society. Although small of , her carriage and movements made her seem taller than she really was. She was said to have the longest calling list in Washington, and, although an to her fingertips, she had friends and acquaintances in every walk in life, for she the true spirit of democracy which springs from a kind heart and does not ape . She had been of inestimable assistance to her brother, Senator Carew, during his political career.
 
As Colonel Thornton bowed low over her small, blue-veined hand, he noticed the heavy lines and dark shadows which and sorrow had traced under her eyes, and his hand closed over hers in silent sympathy.
 
“It is good of you to come, Colonel,” she began, seating herself in a large armchair next the sofa, “and still kinder to offer to advise me, I feel stunned”—she put her hand to her head with a gesture pathetic in its helplessness, and her sad eyes filled with unbidden tears. Eleanor put out her hand, and it was instantly clasped by the older woman. “Forgive me, Colonel.” She blinked the tears away, and by a visible effort her lost composure. “My brother was very dear to me, and——”
 
“I know no man who had more friends,” replied Thornton gravely, as she paused and bit her trembling lips.
 
“Exactly, therefore his violent death seems !” declared Mrs. Winthrop. “Who would commit such a deed? My brother’s greatest fault was his kind heart—he so much good unobtrusively. Now, Colonel, the first thing I wish to consult you about is offering a reward for the discovery of his murderer. Can you arrange it for me?”
 
“Certainly. I think it a wise suggestion. How much shall it be?” Thornton drew out his notebook.
 
“Five thousand dollars;” then, noting Thornton’s expression, asked: “You think it too much?”
 
“It would perhaps be better to commence with a smaller sum—say one thousand dollars—then you can increase it, if that amount brings no results.”
 
“That is a capital plan. Well, James, what is it?” to the footman who had entered a second before and approached her chair.
 
“Mr. Brett wants to know, ma’am, if you will see him an’ Mister Hunter fo’ a few minutes. They want to ax yo’ a few questions.”
 
Mrs. Winthrop glanced interrogatively at Thornton. “What shall I do?”
 
“Perhaps it would be just as well to see them,” he replied.
 
“Very well. James, show the gentlemen in here,” and, as the servant hastened out of the room, she turned to her two guests. “You must be present at this interview, and I depend on you, Colonel Thornton, to check any on the part of the detective.”
 
“I will, madam,” and Thornton’s grim tone conveyed more than the words. He ranked as one of the leaders of the District bar, and few opposing lawyers dared take liberties with him when trying a case.
 
Eleanor made a motion to rise, but Mrs. Winthrop checked her with a low-toned “Wait, dear,” as Brett, followed by Douglas Hunter, strode into the room.
 
Mrs. Winthrop acknowledged Brett’s bow with a of her head, but, as he murmured Douglas’ name in introducing him, she rose and shook hands with him.
 
“I have frequently heard my brother speak of you, Mr. Hunter,” she said, “and have regretted not meeting you before,” and, as Douglas voiced his thanks, she added, “Eleanor, Mr. Hunter”—and Douglas gazed deep into the beautiful eyes which had haunted his memory since their last meeting in Paris. For one second his glance held hers, while a soft blush her cheeks; then Colonel Thornton stepped forward briskly and extended his hand.
 
“No need of an introduction here, Douglas,” he said . “I should have known you anywhere from your to your father, though I haven’t seen you since you wore knickerbockers.”
 
“I haven’t forgotten ‘Thornton’s Nest,’ nor you either, Colonel,” exclaimed Douglas, clasping his hand warmly. “I about lived on your grounds before I went to boarding school.”
 
“Pray be seated, gentlemen,” and, in to Mrs. Winthrop’s gesture, Douglas pulled up a chair near hers, while Brett and Colonel Thornton did likewise. “Now, Mr. Brett, what do you wish to ask me?”
 
“Have you any idea where Senator Carew dined the night of his death?”
 
“Not the slightest,” was the positive reply.
 
“Was it your brother’s custom not to inform you where he was dining?” asked Brett.
 
“Stop a moment,” Thornton held up a protesting hand. “Mrs. Winthrop, you cannot be compelled to answer questions put to you by Mr. Brett; he has no legal right to examine you now.”
 
“I am quite aware of that, Colonel Thornton,” put in Brett composedly; “I am asking these questions that I may gain a little more light on this mystery. I only saw Mrs. Winthrop for a short time yesterday, and, while I do not wish to , I feel that I can accomplish better results by a longer talk. This tragedy must be investigated .”
 
“Very true; but you forget, Mr. Brett, that the inquest is the proper place for bringing out . Mrs. Winthrop will have to appear before it, and, until that is held, she must not be with questions or harrowed by intrusions.”
 
“I am willing to answer all questions within r............