Her daughter was in the room, too--an uncommonly fine girl she is, too; she was looking red about the eyes and her lips trembled as I spoke to her.

That didn't escape my notice.

I began to smell a rat.

You know the feeling, Mr.Sherlock Holmes, when you come upon the right scent--a kind of thrill in your nerves.

'Have you heard of the mysterious death of your late boarder Mr.
Enoch J.Drebber, of Cleveland ?' I asked.
"The mother nodded.