"CHICK." 

 Nick read this note and then glanced across the street toward the office of Allen, Morse & Jones. 

 Through the window he could see Jones calmly writing a letter. Could it be possible that this man was guilty of so hideous a crime? 

 Half an hour passed, and then came the second message, as follows: 

CONTENTS

     "Identified as Mrs. Jones." 

 

 CHAPTER IV. 

 ALL SORTS OF IDENTIFICATIONS. 

 "I am sorry to tell you, Mr. Jones, that the body of the woman murdered last night has been identified as that of your wife." 

 So spoke Nick, and this time Jones' calmness was not proof against the surprise. 

 "It can't be possible!" he exclaimed, leaping from his chair. 

 "I am so informed," said Nick, "and I must place you under arrest." 

 "But there is some infernal mistake here," said the accused. "I know that my wife is all right. This must be somebody else." 

 "A lady living in the same house with you has recognized the body." 

 "I don't care if she has. Nobody in that house knows my wife." 

 "Is there anybody in the city who does know her?" 

 "I can't think of anybody." 

 "How about the grocer with whom you traded?" 

 "Our servant attended to all that till she was taken sick. Since then I've done what little there was to do. We've eaten most of our meals at restaurants." 

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