She laughed again. Without another word she turned and reentered the house. Robinson's oath was audible to
the others.
"We can't put up with that sort of thing, sir," Rawlins said.
"I ought to place this entire household under arrest," Robinson muttered.
"As a lawyer," Graham said easily, "I should think with your lack of evidence it might be asking for trouble.
There is Paredes who acknowledges he was in the court."
"All right. I'll see what he's got to say."
He started for the house. Bobby lingered for a moment with Graham.
"Do you know anything about this, Hartley?"
"Nothing," Graham whispered.
"Then you don't think Katherine--"
"If she'd done it she'd have taken good care not to be so curious. I doubt if it was Katherine."
They followed the others into the hall. Bobby, scarcely appreciating why at first, realized there had been a
change there. Then he understood: Robinson faced an empty chair. The hall was pungent with cigarette
smoke, but Paredes had gone.
Robinson pointed to the stairs.
"Get him down," he said to Rawlins.
"He wouldn't have gone to bed," Graham suggested. "Suppose he's in the old room where Howells lies?"
But Rawlins found him nowhere upstairs. With an increasing excitement Robinson joined the search. They
went through the entire house. Paredes was no longer there. He had, to all appearances, put a period to his
unwelcome visit. He had definitely disappeared from the Cedars.
His most likely exit was through the kitchen door which was unlocked, but Jenkins who had returned to his
room had heard no one. With their electric lamps Robinson and Rawlins ferreted about the rear entrance for
traces. The path there was as trampled and useless as the one in front. Rawlins, who had gone some distance
from the house, straightened with a satisfied exclamation. The others joined him.
"Here's where he left the path right enough," he said. "And our foreigner wasn't making any more noise than
he had to."
He flashed his lamp on a fresh footprint in the soft soil at the side of the path. The mark of the toe was deep
and firm. The impression of the heel was very light. Paredes, it was clear, had walked from the house on
tiptoe.
"Follow on," Robinson commanded. "I told this fellow I wanted to question him. I've scared him off."
Keeping his light on the ground, Rawlins led the way across the clearing. The trail was simple enough to
follow. Each of the Panamanian's footprints was distinct. Each had that peculiarity that suggested the stealth