e mornin' and waitin' for his return!"

Doctor Bartholomew shook his white head with a good deal of obstinacy.

"I think you're wrong there Nigel. Wynne is a man of his word, drunk or
sober. He'll come back, no doubt. Unless something has happened to him."

"And this from our sceptical disbeliever, boys!" struck in Tony West,
raising his hands in mock horror. "Nigel, m'lad, you've made an early
conversion. The good doctor has a sneaking belief in the story. How now,
son? What's your plan of action?"

"Half an hour's wait more, and then to bed," said Merriton, tossing back
his head and setting his jaw. "I offered Wynne a bed in the first place,
but he saw fit to refuse me. If he hasn't made use of this opportunity
to turn in at the Brelliers' place, I'll eat my hat. What about a round
of cards, boys, till the time is up?"

So the cards were produced, and the game began. But it was a half-hearted
attempt at best, for everyone's ear was strained for the front-door bell,
and everyone had an eye half-cocked toward the window. Before the half
hour was up the game had fizzled out. And still Dacre Wynne did not put
in an appearance.

Borkins, having been summoned, brought in some whisky and Merriton
remarked casually:

"Mr. Wynne has ventured out to try and discover the meaning of the Frozen
Flames, Borkins. He'll be back some time this evening--or rather morning,
I should say, for it's after midnight--and the other gentlemen and myself
are going to make a move for bed. Keep your ears peeled in case you hear
him. I sleep like the very old devil himself, when once I do get off."

Borkins, on hearing this, turned suddenly gray, and the perspiration
broke out on his forehead.

"Gone, sir? Mr. Wynne--gone--out _there_?" he said in a stifled voice.
"Oh my Gawd, sir. It's--it's suicide, that's what it is! And Mr.
Wynne's--gone!... 'E'll never come back, I swear."

Merriton laughed easily.

"Well, keep your swearing to yourself, Borkins," he returned, "and see
that the gentlemen's rooms are ready for 'em. Doctor Bartholomew has the
one next to mine, and Mr. West's is on the other side. I gave Mrs. Dredge
full instructions this morning.... Good-night, Borkins, and pleasant
dreams."

Borkins left. But his face was a dull drab shade and he was trembling
like a man who has received a terrible shock.

"There's a case of genuine scare for you," remarked Doctor Bartholomew
quietly, drawing on his pipe. "That man's nerves are l