"No; I shall remain only long enough to finish my story for the paper. I wrote the introduction this afternoon. One year's ball is much the same as another's. Have you any plans for the morrow?"
"None, except mild sightseeing. Will you not lunch with us?"
"I shall be delighted," murmurs Ashley. To be near Miss Hathaway is pleasure unalloyed; incidentally he desires an opportunity to quietly study Cyrus Felton. "At 1 o'clock, say?" he asks.
"At 1 o'clock. We must thank you again, Mr. Ashley, for your escort this evening."
"Don't mention it—again," smiles Ashley. "I am sorry I cannot ask you to assist in my work to-morrow. It would be fully as interesting and more to your taste, likely, than the French ball."
"Then it cannot be a political meeting."
"Hardly. It is the trial trip of the new United States cruiser America, probably the fastest vessel of any size afloat in the world to-day."
"That will be delightful. You must tell me all about it when you return. Your description will be much more interesting, I am sure, than the newspaper accounts."
"Fully as interesting as the Hemisphere's story, perhaps. Good-night, Miss Hathaway. Oh, by the way, Mr. Felton," as Louise trips upstairs, "did you know that Roger Hathaway's revolver has been found?"
Ashley asks the question in the most casual of tones, but his keen eyes are riveted on the elder man's face. The result is not wholly what the questioner expected. Mr. Felton simply stares at Ashley and repeats: "Hathaway's revolver found? Where? When?"
"It was fished out of Wild River about opposite the cemetery a day or two ago. But perhaps it was after you had started for New York. Odd, is it not, that the weapon with which the crime was perhaps committed should be brought to light within a stone's throw of the grave of the murdered man? But pardon me. Perhaps, I have awakened painful reflections; so I will say no more. Good night."
