"Nowhere. I have one left at my door every morning. I read it before I left my rooms, but I put part of it in my pocket, as I usually do, in case I wanted to look at it again."
"You know there was a Herald found in the room after the murder?"
"Of course I do, but it was not mine."
"What became of yours?"
"I haven't the least idea, I never thought of it again."
"Quite a coincidence, that a Herald should have been left there when your aunt took quite another New York paper!"
"I'm telling you this thing just as it happened, Mr. Stone."
Bannard spoke sternly, and with such a straightforward glance that Fleming Stone said, "I beg your pardon—proceed."
"I went down to New York," Bannard resumed, "and I stopped at the Red Fox Inn for lunch."
"At what time?"