n a rapid undertone. The girl
nodded indifferently now and then. I fancied, although I was not sure,
that my appearance brought a startled look into the young woman's face.
I sat down and, hands thrust deep into the other man's pockets, stared
ruefully at the other man's shoes.

The stage was set. In a moment the curtain was going up on the first act
of the play. And for a while we would all say our little speeches and
sing our little songs, and I, the villain, would hold center stage while
the gallery hissed.

The porter was standing beside lower ten. He had reached in and was
knocking valiantly. But his efforts met with no response. He winked at
me over his shoulder; then he unfastened the curtains and bent forward.
Behind him, I saw him stiffen, heard his muttered exclamation, saw the
bluish pallor that spread over his face and neck. As he retreated a step
the interior of lower ten lay open to the day.

The man in it was on his back, the early morning sun striking full on
his upturned face. But the light did not disturb him. A small stain of
red dyed the front of his night clothes and trailed across the sheet;
his half-open eyes were fixed, without seeing, on the shining wood
above.

I grasped the porter's shaking shoulders and stared down to where the
train imparted to the body a grisly suggestion of motion. "Good Lord," I
gasped. "The man's been murdered!"

CHAPTER IV. NUMBERS SEVEN AND NINE

Afterwards, when I tried to recall our discovery of the body in lower
ten, I found that my most vivid impression was not that made by the
revelation of the opened curtain. I had an instantaneous picture of a
slender blue-gowned girl who seemed to sense my words rather than hear
them, of two small hands that clutched desperately at the seat beside
them. The girl in the aisle stood, bent toward us, perplexity and alarm
fighting in her face.

With twitching hands the porter attempted to draw the curtains together.
Then in a paralysis of shock, he collapsed on the edge of my berth and
sat there swaying. In my excitement I shook him.

"For Heaven's sake, keep your nerve, man," I said bruskly. "You'll have
every woman in the car in hysterics. And if you do, you'll wish you
could change places with the man in there." He rolled his eyes.

A man near, who had been reading last night's paper, dropped it quickly
and tiptoed toward us. He peered between the partly open curtains,
closed them quietly and went back, ostentat