that on top of its spare,
bent, and agile body. Now and then, however, it ceased this grotesque
movement to gaze up at the window. One would have said that this
creature was less a man than an ape.

I am not a coward. "Here," thought I, "is a tangible factor. My word of
honor to Julianna is not broken if I seize this customer, whatever he
may be, and make him explain the part he is acting." I stepped forward
immediately, but he saw me before I had made two steps. From my bearing
and the place where I had concealed myself, he knew at once, I suppose,
that I had been watching him, for, turning with a swift motion, he
plunged into the shrubs and evergreens behind him. That the thing was as
frightened as a rabbit, there can be no doubt; the single little cry it
gave forth was not a scream. You would have called it a squeal! In a
jiffy I was after him, tearing through the branches among which, with a
sinuous twisting of his body, he had just slid; a moment later I reached
the open lawn again. The man had vanished.

I knew well enough that he was hiding, probably flattened on the
ground, among the evergreens. At another time, on a quiet evening,
listening for his movements or even his breathing, might have told me
where he lay, but now the wind and the rattle of dead leaves made it
necessary for me to use my eyes in my search. Therefore I went back
through the bushes, kicking at dark shadows with my foot, my heart
thumping with the excitement of the hunt.

As I reached the street again, I looked up toward my house, and there,
at the front door, I saw a crack widen and a black figure of a man come
out and down the steps. It crossed the street, and when it had gone into
the park, I followed it. You know what happened; this second man was
you.

And now I ask you, Doctor, man to man--For God's sake, tell me what you
know!

BOOK III

THE DOCTOR'S LIMOUSINE

CHAPTER I

A SHADOW ON THE CURTAIN

Such was Jermyn Estabrook's story. I have tried, in repeating it, not
only to include all the details given by this desperate young man, but
to suggest also the coldness and accuracy of his speech. Why? Because
the very manner of narration is indicative of the man's character. He
belongs to the dry, dessicated, and abominably respectable class of our
society. Pah! I have no patience with them. They live a