"But
why was the cashier of the Metropolis Trust Company," he looked
questioningly at Clymer whom he knew quite well by sight, "and a
social high-light, decked out in these clothes and a wig, too?"
leaning down, the better to examine the clothing on the dead man.
"He had just been held for the Grand Jury on a charge of
house-breaking," volunteered the deputy marshal. "I reckon that
brought on his heart-attack."
"True, true," agreed Rochester. "The excitement was too much for
him."
"House-breaking" ejaculated the detective. "Dangerous sport for
a man suffering with angina pectoris, aside from anything else.
Who preferred charges?"
"The Misses McIntyre," answered the deputy marshal, to whom the
question was addressed. "Like to interview them?"
"Yes."
"No, no!" Rochester was on his feet instantly. "There is no
necessity to bring the twins out here - it's too tragic!"
"Tragic?" echoed Ferguson. "Why?"
"Why - why - Turnbull was arrested in their house," Rochester was
commencing to stutter. "He was their friend -"
"Caught burglarizing, heh?" Ferguson's eyes glowed; the case
already whetted his remarkably keen inquisitorial instinct which
had gained him place and certain fame in the Washington police force.
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