“Did he state the nature of that business?” inquired Brett eagerly.
“No. I at once followed his suggestion and applied to the State Department for leave. It was granted, and I hastened home as fast as steamer and train could bring me.”
“Did you see Senator Carew?”
“Unfortunately, no. I only reached Washington late last night. I expected to see the Senator this morning, instead of which I read of his mysterious death in the morning papers.”
Brett mused for a few minutes, then roused himself. “I am only too glad to have your assistance, Mr. Hunter.”
“Good!” ejaculated Douglas, well pleased. “Suppose you tell me all the facts in the case so far discovered.”
Brett leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. “On the face of things it looks as if the negro driver, Hamilton, was guilty.”
“Tell me what leads you to think that?” inquired Douglas quickly.
“He is the worst type of negro, a vicious brute with a taste for liquor. I have inquired about him and examined him thoroughly and am really puzzled, Hunter, to find out why Senator Carew ever employed him.”