ind. But he had heard a doctor say once that
under stress of great emotion people sometimes went momentarily insane.
His friend had been greatly wrought up from anxiety, pain, fever, and
lack of sleep.

In replacing the telephone he had accidentally pushed aside a book.
Beneath it was a slip of paper on which had been penciled a note. He
read it, without any interest.

Mr. Hull he come see you. He sorry you not here. He say maybe perhaps
make honorable call some other time.

S. HORIKAWA

An electric bell buzzed through the apartment. The sound of it
startled Kirby as though it had been the warning of a rattlesnake close
to his head. Some one was at the outer door ringing for admission. It
would never do for him to be caught here.

He had been trained to swift thought reactions. Quickly but
noiselessly he stepped to the door and released the catch of the Yale
lock so that it would not open from the outside without a key. He
switched off the light and passed through the living-room into the
bedchamber. His whole desire now was to be gone from the building as
soon as possible. The bedroom also he darkened before he stepped to
the window and crept through it to the platform of the fire escape.

The glove was still in his hand. He thrust it into his pocket as he
began the descent. The iron ladder ran down the building to the alley.
It ended ten feet above the ground. Kirby lowered himself and dropped.
He turned to the right down the alley toward Glenarm Street.

A man was standing at the comer of the alley trying to light a cigar.
He was a reporter on the "Times," just returning from the Press Club
where he had been playing in a pool tournament.

He stopped Lane. "Can you lend me a match, friend?"

The cattleman handed him three or four and started to go.

"Just a mo'," the newspaper-man said, striking a light. "Do you
always"--puff, puff--"leave your rooms"--puff, puff, puff--"by the fire
escape?"

Kirby looked at him in silence, thinking furiously. He had been
caught, after all. There were witnesses to prove he had gone up to his
uncle's rooms. Here was another to testify he had left by the fire
escape. The best he could say was that he was very unlucky.

"Never mind, friend," the newspaper-man went On. "You don't look like
a second-story worker to yours truly." He broke into a little amused
chuckle. "I reckon friend husband, who never comes home till Saturday
night, happened aroun