course."
Miss Minerva sank into a chair. Ah, yes, they had policemen out here, after all.
In a few moments Hallet came briskly back into the living-room. "Look here," he said. "The doctor tells me Mr. Winterslip has been dead a very short while. I don't want your evidence just yet—but if either of you can give me some idea as to the hour when this thing happened—"
"I can give you a rather definite idea," said Miss Minerva calmly. "It happened just previous to twenty minutes past one. Say about one fifteen."
Hallet stared at her. "You're sure of that?"
"I ought to be. I got the time from the wrist watch of the person who committed the murder."
"What! You saw him!"
"I didn't say that. I said I saw his wrist watch."
Hallet frowned. "I'll get that straight later," he said. "Just now I propose to comb this part of town. Where's the telephone?"
Miss Minerva pointed it out to him, and heard him in earnest conversation with a man at headquarters named Tom. Tom's job, it seemed, was to muster all available men and search Honolulu, particularly the Waikiki district, rounding up any suspicious characters. He was also to have on hand, awaiting his chief's return, the passenger lists of all ships that had made port at Honolulu during the past week.
Hallet returned to the living-room. He took a stand directly in front of Miss Minerva. "Now," he began, "you didn't see the murderer, but you saw his wrist watch. I'm a great believer in taking things in an orderly fashion. You're a stranger here. From Boston, I believe?"
"I am," snapped Miss Minerva.
"Stopping in this house?"
"Precisely."
"Anybody here besides you and Mr. Winterslip?"
Miss Minerva's eyes flashed. "The servants," she said. "And I would like to call your attention to the fact that I am Dan Winterslip's first cousin."
"Oh, sure—no offense. He has a daughter, hasn't he?"
"Miss Barbara is on her way home from college. Her ship will dock in the morning."
"I see. Just you and Winterslip. You're going to be an important witness."
"It will be a novel experience, at any rate," she remarked.
"I dare say. Now, go back—" Miss Minerva glared at him—it was a glare that had frightened guards on the Cambridge subway. He brushed it aside. "You understand that I haven't time for please, Miss Winterslip. Go back and describe last evening in this house."
"I was here only until eight-thirty," she told him, "when I went to a luau with some friends. Previous to that, Mr. Winterslip dined at his usual hour and we chatted for a time on the lanai."
"Did he seem to have anything on his mind?"
"Well, he has appeared a bit upset—"
"Wait a minute!" The captain took out a note-book. "Want to put down some of this. Been upset, has he? For how long?"
"For the past two weeks. Let me think—just two weeks ago to-night—or rather, last night—he and I were sitting on the lanai, and he was reading the evening paper. Something in it seemed to disturb him. He got up, wrote a note to his cousin Roger in San Francisco, and took it down for a friend aboard the President Tyler to deliver. From that moment he appeared restless and unhappy."
"Go on. This may be important."
"Last Wednesday morning he received a cable from Roger that infuriated him."
"A cable. What was in it?"
"It was not addressed to me," said Miss Minerva haughtily.
"Well, that's all right. We'll dig it up. Now, about last night. Did he act more upset than ever?"
"He did. But that may have been due to the fact he had hoped his daughter's ship would dock yesterday afternoon, and had learned it could not land its passengers until this morning."
"I see. You said you was only here until eight-thirty?"
"I did not," replied Miss Minerva coldly. "I said I was here only until eight-thirty."
"Same thing."
"Well, hardly."
"I'm not here to talk grammar," Hallet said sharply. "Did anything occur—anything out of the ordinary—before you left?"
"No. Wait a moment. Some one called Mr. Winterslip on the telephone while he was at dinner. I couldn't help overhearing the conversation."
"Good for you!" She glared at him again. "Repeat it."
"I heard Mr. Winterslip say: 'Hello, Egan. What—you're not coming over? Oh, yes you are. I want to see you. I insist on it. Come about eleven. I want to see you.' That was, at least, the import of his remarks."
"Did he seem excited?"
"He raised his voice above the ordinary tone."
"Ah, yes." The captain stared at his note-book. "Must have been Jim Egan, who runs this God-forsaken Reef and Palm Hotel down the beach." He turned to Amos. "Was Egan a friend of your brother?"
"I don't know," said Amos.
"You see, Amos was not a friend of his brother, either," explained Miss Minerva. "There was an old feud between them. Speaking for myself, I never heard Dan mention Egan, and he certainly never came to the house while I was here."
Hallet nodded. "Well, you left at eight-thirty. Now tell us where you went and when you got back. And all about the wrist watch."
Miss Minerva rapidly sketched her evening at the luau. She described her return to Dan's living-room, her adventure in the dark—the luminous dial that waited for her to pass.
"I wish you'd seen more," Hallet complained. "Too many people wear wrist watches."
"Probably not many," said Miss Minerva, "wear a wrist watch like that one."
"Oh. It had some distinguishing mark?"
"It certainly did. The numerals were illuminated, and stood out clearly—with an exception. The figure 2 was very dim—practically obliterated."
He looked at her admiringly. "Well, you certainly had your wits about you."
"That's a habit I formed early in life," replied Miss Minerva. "And old habits are hard to break."
He smiled, and asked her to continue. She told of rousing the two servants and, finally, of the gruesome discovery on the lanai.
"But it was Mr. Amos," Hallet said, "who called the station."
"Yes. I telephoned him at once, and he offered to attend to that."
Hallet turned to Amos. "How long did it take you to reach here, Mr. Winterslip?" he inquired.
"Not more than ten minutes," said Amos.
"You could dress and get here in that time?"
Amos hesitated. "I—I did not need to dress," he explained. "I hadn't gone to bed."
Hallet regarded him with a new interest. "Half past one—and you were still up?"
"I—I don't sleep very well," said Amos. "I'm up till all hours."
"I see. You weren't on friendly terms with your brother? An old quarrel between you?"
"No particular quarrel. I didn't approve of his manner of living, and we went separate ways."
"And stopped speaking to each other, eh?"
"Yes. That was the situation," Amos admitted.
"Humph." For a moment the captain stared at Amos, and Miss Minerva stared at him too. Amos! It flashed through her mind that Amos had been a long time alone out there on the lanai before the arrival of the police.
"Those