Doctor Walker's Warning

"Didn't he say anything else you could understand?" I asked.

"He said something about the grave giving up its dead."

Mr. Jamieson was going through the old man's pockets, and Gertrude was
composing his arms, folding them across his white shirt-bosom, always
so spotless.

Mr. Jamieson looked up at me.

"What was that you said to me, Miss Innes, about the murder at the
house being a beginning and not an end? By jove, I believe you were
right!"

In the course of his investigations the detective had come to the inner
pocket of the dead butler's black coat. Here he found some things that
interested him. One was a small flat key, with a red cord tied to it,
and the other was a bit of white paper, on which was written something
in Thomas' cramped hand. Mr. Jamieson read it: then he gave it to me.
It was an address in fresh ink-LUCIEN WALLACE, 14 Elm Street, Richfield.

As the card went around, I think both the detective and I watched for
any possible effect it might have, but, beyond perplexity, there seemed
to be none.

"Richfield!" Gertrude exclaimed. "Why, Elm Street is the main street;
don't you remember, Halsey?"

"Lucien Wallace!" Halsey said. "That is the child Stewart spoke of at
the inquest."

Warner, with his mechanic's instinct, had reached for the key. What he
said was not a surprise.

"Yale lock," he said. "Probably a key to the east entry."

There was no reason why Thomas, an old and trusted servant, should not
have had a key to that particular door, although the servants' entry
was in the west wing. But I had not known of this key, and it opened
up a new field of conjecture. Just now, however, there were many
things to be attended to, and, leaving Warner with the body, we all
went back to the house. Mr. Jamieson walked with me, while Halsey and
Gertrude followed.