Greenleaf sighed and passed his hand wearily across his eyes. He had had a hard day, the hardest day of his life.
"But you think my plan for the inquest is all right?" he asked once more.
"Yes; it's the best thing possible. By the way, don't have me summoned to testify. Leave my evidence until the trial. I don't want to wear myself out going down there for merely an inquest."
"All right; I'll fix that. We've enough evidence without yours—enough for the inquest, anyway."
"Thanks."
Bristow looked at his watch, and Greenleaf got up to go.
"I'll be up here between eight and nine tomorrow morning," he said, "if that suits you."
"What for?"
"To get a good look at the grounds back of Number Five. If the murderer dropped anything, I want to be the man to pick it up."
"Oh, I'd forgotten that," Bristow said in a tone indicating his hopelessness of finding anything worth while. "Yes; I'll be ready for you."