The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1912-07-20
Mr. Knoxw he aske

 MT. Knoxg' he aske
 way.
 "Yes. Come in'
 CT have been here six times since neon,'' he said, dropping rather than sitting in a chair My name is Light foot. I am-was-Mr. Fleming's cash ier.".
 "Yes?'
 'T was terribly shocked at the news l of his death, he stumbled on, getting no help from me. T was in town, and if I had known instime I could have kept some of the details out of the pa pers. Poor Fleming-to think he would end it that wayi''
 "End it?'
 '.Shoot himself He watched me | closely.
 'But he didn't protested. t'It was 1 not suicide, MT. Lightfoot. According to the police it was murder" His cold eyes narrowed like cat's. "Murder is an ugly word, Mr.e Knox. Don't let us be sensational. MT. Flem- ing had threatened to kill himself more than once-ask young Wardrop. He l was sick and despondent; he left his !, hcrae without a word, which points strongly to emotional insanity. He could have gone to any one of half dozen large clubs here or at the capi- tai. InsteaN, he goes to little third rate political club, where, presumably, he does his own cooking and hides in i dingy room Is that sane? Murder! It was suicide. and that puppy War drop knows it well enough.
 q have seen the police,'' he went on. ''They agree with me that it was sui eide, and the party newspapers will straighten it out tomorrow The Times Post, which is Democratic, of course, l can not handle.''
 'sSuicider' I said finally. With no weapon, no powder marks and with a half finished letter at his elbow" [ He brushed my interruption aside.
 "Mr. Fleming had been-careless,' ; he said. T can tell you in confidence that some of the. state funds had been deposited in the Borough bank of Man chester, and-the Borough bank closed its doors at 10 o'clock today.
 'I arrived here last night, and I searched the city for MT. Fleming. This morning I heard the news. I have just come from the house; his daughter referred me to you. After all, what I want is a small matter Some papers-state documents missing and no doubt are among Mr. l Fleming'S private effects. I would like to go through his papers and leave to- night for the capital"
 "I have hardly the authority" re. piled doubtfully. Miss Fleming, ] suppose, would have no objection His private secretary, Wardrop, would be the one to superintend such search. 5
 Gan you find Wardrop-at once?''
 Something in his eagerness put me on my guard.
 'T will make an attempt" I said ''Let me have the name of your hotel and will telephone you if it can be arranged for tonight"
 l Oddly enough, I could not locate Wardrop. I got the Maitland house by telephone, to learn that he had Jeff there about3 o'clock and had not come back.
 ls I went to the Fleming house for din ner. Edith still was there, and we tried to cheer Margery, sad little fig ure in her black clothes. After the meal called Lightfoot at his hotel and told him that could not find Wardrop that there were no papers at the house and that the office safe would have to wait until Wardrop was found to open N it. He was disappointed and furious From that minute in the struggle that }, was coming, like Fred, 1 was flor ninst" the government.
 It was arranged that Edith should take Margery home with her for the night. thought it good idea. The very sight of Edith tucking in her ba, bies and sitting down beside the libra ry lamp to embroider me a scarfpin holder would bring Margery back to normal again. Edith is the sanest Wo- man I know. recognized it at the dinner table, where she had the little girl across from her planning her mourning hats before the dinner was half finished.
 When we rose at last Margery looked toward the music room, where the dead man lay in state. But Edith took her by the arg and pushed her toward the stairs.
 l 'Get your hat on right away while Jack calls a cab, she directed. q must get home or Fred will keep the boys up until g o'clock. He is abso- lutely without principle.''