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Darrell had by this time come to the conclusion that he was entering upon one of the oddest cases in his experience.

He had his sympathies aroused also, and while he generally worked for conviction, in this instance it would be otherwise, his desire being to prove the parties innocent.

Presently Leslie went on:

“I pretended to go to my office, but, instead, hovered in the neighborhood, sometimes in the drug-store on the corner.

“Thus I have discovered that regularly every morning at ten o’clock, Saturday omitted, this fine-looking foreign gentleman enters my house, and the door closes behind him.

“At eleven he appears again—it is always my wife who lets him in and sees him to the door.

“Eric, this thing is killing me—sooner than believe Lillian could be false to me I would discredit my own mother; and yet here is something very, very strange—something that must be explained before my peace of mind comes back to me again. In a few words, I want you to find out who this man is, and why he calls to see my wife invariably at ten o’clock when I am supposed to be down-town money-making, and why she has never breathed one syllable of all this to me.”