d the other. "What's wrong with you,
Constable?"

Sergeant Smith's face was drawn and haggard. The policeman looked at him
with open-mouthed astonishment.

"I didn't know it was you," he said.

"What's wrong?" asked the other again, and his voice was cracked and
unnatural.

"There's been a murder--old Minute--shot!"

Sergeant Smith staggered back a pace.

"Good God!" he said. "Minute murdered? Then he did it! The young devil
did it!"

"Come and have a look," invited Wiseman, recovering his balance. "I've
got his nephew."

"No, no! I don't want to see John Minute dead! You go back. I'll bring
another constable and a doctor."

He stumbled blindly along the drive into the road, and Constable Wiseman
went back to the house. Frank was where he had left him, save that he
had seated himself and was gazing steadfastly upon the dead man. He
looked up as the policeman entered.

"What have you done?" he asked.

"The sergeant's gone for a doctor and another constable," said Wiseman
gravely.

"I'm afraid they will be too late," said Frank. "He is--What's that?"

There was a distant hammering and a faint voice calling for help.

"What's that?" whispered Frank again.

The constable strode through the open doorway to the foot of the stairs
and listened. The sound came from the upper story. He ran upstairs,
mounting two at a time, and presently located the noise. It came from an
end room, and somebody was hammering on the panels. The door was locked,
but the key had been left in the lock, and this Constable Wiseman
turned, flooding the dark interior with light.

"Come out!" he said, and Jasper Cole staggered out, dazed and shaking.

"Somebody hit me on the head with a sandbag," he said thickly. "I heard
the shot. What has happened?"

"Mr. Minute has been killed," said the policeman.

"Killed!" He fell back against the wall, his face working. "Killed!" he
repeated. "Not killed!"

The constable nodded. He had found the electric switch and the
passageway was illuminated.

Presently the young man mastered his emotion.

"Where is he?" he asked, and Wiseman led the way downstairs.

Jasper Cole walked into the room without a glance at Frank and bent over
the dead man. For a long time he looked at him earnestly, then he turned
to Frank.

"You did this!" he said. "I heard your voice and the shots! I heard you
threaten him!"

Frank said nothing. He merely stared at the other, and in his eyes was a
look of infini