“Swept, scrubbed, and polished,” he declared, as he glanced with disfavor at the immaculate room.

“And indeed it was quite necessary,” said Miss Morton, who entered just then. “After all those vines and flowers were taken away, and as a good deal of the furniture was out, I took occasion for a good bit of housecleaning.”

“Well,” said Fleming Stone quietly, “there’s one clue they didn’t sweep away. Here is where the assassin entered.”

As he spoke Mr. Stone was leaning against the mantel and looking down at the immaculately brushed hearth.

“Where?” cried Kitty, darting forward, and though the others gave no voice to their curiosity, they waited breathlessly for Stone’s next utterance.