aged the best nurse
available. But his efforts were of no avail. On a certain Thursday
afternoon Smith began to sink fast and at about eight in the evening he
died.

Mr. Jones on his return from his office that day at about four in the
afternoon had been informed that Mr. Smith's condition was very bad, and
he had at once gone over to see what he could do.

He had sent for half a dozen doctors, but they on their arrival had
found that the case was hopeless. Three of the doctors had accordingly
gone away, but the other three had stayed behind.

When however Smith was dead, and these three doctors had satisfied
themselves that life was quite extinct, they too went away with Mr.
Jones leaving the dead body in charge of the mourning members of the
family of the deceased.

Mr. Jones at once set about making arrangements for the funeral early
the next morning; and it was well after eleven at night that he
returned to a very late dinner at his own house. It was a particularly
hot night and after smoking his last cigar for the day Mr. Jones went to
bed, but not to sleep, after midnight. The death of his old friend and
neighbour had made him very sad and thoughtful. The bed had been made on
the open roof on the top of the house which was a two storied building
and Mr. Jones lay watching the stars and thinking.

At about one in the morning there was a loud knock at the front door.
Mr. Jones who was wide awake thought it was one of the servants
returning home late and so he did not take any notice of it.

After a few moments the knock was repeated at the door which opened on
the stairs leading to the roof of the second storey on which Mr. Jones
was sleeping. [The visitor had evidently passed through the front door].
This time Mr. Jones knew it was no servant. His first impression was
that it was one of the mutual friends who had heard of Smith's death and
was coming to make enquiries. So he shouted out "Who is there?"

"It is I,--Smith" was the reply.

"Smith--Smith is dead" stammered Mr. Jones.

"I want to speak to you, Jones--open the door or I shall come and kill
you" said the voice of Smith from beyond the door. A cold sweat stood on
Mr. Jones's forehead. It was Smith speaking, there was no doubt of
that,--Smith, whom he had seen expire before his very eyes five hours
ago. Mr. Jones began to look for a weapon to defend himself.

There was nothing available except a rather heavy hammer which had been
brought up an h