"He won't leave a stone unturned," Morriston said. "He proposes to return here after the funeral in town."
"And I should say," observed Kelson, "if the mystery is to be solved he is the man to solve it. What do you think, Hugh?"
Gifford seemed to rouse himself by an effort from an absorbing train of thought. "Oh, yes," he answered. "Except that it is possible to be a little too clever and so overlook the obvious."
"If," said Morriston, obsessed by the subject, "the case is not one of suicide it must be one of murder. Where is Mr. Gervase Henshaw, or any one else, going to look for the criminal?"
"Not among your guests, let's hope," Kelson said with a touch of uneasiness.
"For one thing," Morriston replied, "they, or a good part of them, were not exactly my guests. I can't tell who may have got a ticket and been present. There was a great crowd. We may have easily rubbed shoulders with the murderer, if murder it was."
"Yes, so we may," said Kelson alertly, though with something of a shudder.
"Not a pleasant idea," continued Morriston. "But I don't see, if a bad character did get in and mix with the company, why he should have done a fellow guest to death, nor how he contrived to leave his victim and get out of the room after he had locked the door."
"If the two men had a row over a girl, or anything else," Kelson said, "there is still that difficulty to be surmounted."
Gifford spoke. "From what one could judge of the dead man's personality and character it is not a far-fetched supposition that he must have had enemies."