Adam Adams described the fellow minutely, but Raymond Case shook his head.

“I can’t place him.  But that is not strange,” he added.  “I know very few folks in this neighborhood.”

“Do you know a man named Matlock Styles.”

“Not very well—­I met him once, when he was calling on Mr. Langmore on business.  He is an Englishman, fairly well to do, who lives in an old colonial house on the Harper road, a mile and a half, I should say, from here.”

“Do you know what business this Styles had with Mr. Langmore?”

“I don’t remember very well—­but hold up, yes, I do.  He owed Mr. Langmore some money.  The two put through some sort of real estate deal.”

“How much did Styles owe Mr. Langmore?”

“I don’t know exactly, but it was a large amount, fifteen or twenty thousand dollars.”

“What sort of a man would you take this Styles to he?”

“Oh, he is a big, overbearing Englishman, one of the kind with mutton-chop whiskers and a red nose.  He is a great chap for fast horses, and I’ve heard he has quite a stable of them over to his place.  He is also a dog fancier.”

“Has he been here lately?”

“I don’t know.  Perhaps Margaret could tell you.  But what has this to do—­”

“Nothing at all, perhaps.  In the safe with the bankbills were some mortgage papers given to Mr. Langmore by this Matlock Styles.  But the two may not have the least connection with each other.”

The two had been walking away from the house and now the detective turned back.  As he did so he thought of the bit of paper he had picked up in the shrubbery.  He struck a match with one hand and held up the slip with the other.  It was a memorandum, running as follows: 

$8,000
5,000
3,000
$16,000
-------
.03%
-------
$480.00

Adam Adams studied the memorandum with interest.  The amounts at the top were those of the mortgages given by Matlock Styles to Barry Langmore.  Evidently somebody had figured out what the interest would be at three per cent.

“What is that?” asked Raymond Case.

“A bit of paper I picked up around here.  It doesn’t seem to amount to anything.  But I think we had better part now, Mr. Case.  If I have anything to report I’ll see you to-morrow at the Beechwood Hotel.”

The pair separated, and Adam Adams watched the young man disappear down the road, the latter feeling that he ought not to interfere with the work of the man he had engaged to unravel the mystery.  In deep thought the detective went back to the neighborhood of the mansion and stationed himself where he could get a look at the library windows.

Adam Adams felt that the case was growing deeper and deeper.  The finding of the counterfeit banknotes In Barry Langmore’s safe was astonishing.  Where this thread of the skein would lead to he could not imagine.

“I seem to be uncovering more than I bargained for,” he mused.  “If the man was innocent of all wrong-doing why didn’t he turn those bills over to the authorities?  Were he alive we should certainly say he was caught with the goods.  If this comes out it will create as much of a sensation as the murder itself.”