"But not by the knife," put in Tracey sharply. "The poor soul, as Calvert calls her, met with a terrible death."
"I know, I know," said Fane irritably. "I wish you wouldn't dwell on the matter, Mr. Tracey. It is excessively unpleasant for me, seeing I live in the house where she was killed. Why don't you offer a reward to clear up the mystery, Calvert?"
"I don't think there will be any need now," said Arnold with emphasis.
"What do you mean?" Fane sat up suddenly. "Because Tracey and I have reason to believe we have found the assassin."
"What!" Fane sprang to his feet much excited. "Who is it? Tell me his name."
"What would you do if you knew it?" asked Tracey, who was looking at Fane with great wonderment.
"Do," said the other, clenching his fist, "I would hang the man."
"How do you know it was a man? It may have been a woman."
"Why do you say that, Mr. Tracey?"
"Well, there was the singing, you know."