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may, I presume, add Miss Julie—though very young at the time. Of these, for the hour of two minutes past eight to-night, two have been accounted for. Jessop presents plenty good alibi and Huntley Van Horn has perfect one, to which I myself can swear. Other things I learned—not very important—but it struck my mind, as it must have struck yours, that Mr. Alan Jaynes was breathless with anxiety to leave Hawaii to-night. Do not forget—it is within grounds of possibility that Denny Mayo murder had nothing to do with death of Shelah Fane. This Jaynes was in overwrought state; his may be fiercely jealous nature; he may have looked at those orchids, the gift of another, on the lady’s shoulder, and———”

“But he, too, has the alibi of the watch,” Tarneverro suggested.

“Alas! yes,” Chan nodded.

For a moment they sat in silence. Then Tarneverro rose, and walked slowly toward the couch. “By the way,” he said casually, “have you made a thorough examination of this watch?”

“So sorry.” Chan rose and followed him. “You now call my attention to fact that I have neglected most obvious duty.” Tarneverro was bending over, but Chan stopped him. “I will remove it at once and have careful look at it—though I am so dense I do not quite grasp your meaning.”

Taking a linen handkerchief from his pocket, he spread it over his left hand. With his other hand he unfastened the narrow black ribbon from Shelah Fane’s wrist, and lifting the costly little watch, laid it on the handkerchief. He went back and stood directly under one of the lights, staring down at the timepiece.