hall--a cry of mortal anguish that could only come from a woman--and
then, past the library door, rushed a figure in white.

Out and away it rushed, flinging open the front door, speeding down the
steps and across the lawn.

"Quick!" cried Colonel Ashley. "Who was that?"

"I don't know!" answered Jack. "Must have been the person I thought I
heard in the hall."

"We must find out who it was!" went on the detective. "You make some
inquiries. I'll take after her."

"Could it have been Miss Viola?"

The question was answered almost as soon as it was asked, for, at that
moment, Viola herself came down the front stairs.

"What is it?" she asked the two detectives. "Who cried out like that? Is
some one hurt?"

"I don't know," answered Colonel Ashley. "Mr. Young and I were talking
in the library when we heard the scream. Then a woman rushed out."

"It must have been Minnie Webb!" cried Viola. "She was here a moment
ago. The maid told me she was waiting in the parlor, and I was detained
upstairs. It must have been Minnie. But why did she scream so?"

Colonel Ashley did not stop to answer.

"Look after things here, Jack!" he called to his assistant. "I'm going
to follow her. If ever there was a desperate woman she is."

And he sped through the darkness after the figure in white.

CHAPTER XXII. THE LARGE BLONDE AGAIN

The trail was not a difficult one to follow. The night was particularly
black, with low-hanging clouds which seemed to hold a threat of rain,
and the wind sighed dolefully through the scrub pines. Against this dim
murkiness the figure of the woman in white stood out ghostily.

"Poor Minnie Webb!" mused Colonel Ashley, as he hurried on after her.
"She must be desperate now--after what she heard. I wonder--"

He did not put his wonder into words then, but his suspicion was
confirmed as he saw her head for the bridge that spanned a creek, not
far from where the ferry ran over to Loch Harbor.

At certain times this creek was not deep enough to afford passage for
small rowboats, but when the tide was in there was draught enough for
motor launches.

"And the tide is in now," mused the colonel, as he remembered passing
among the sand dunes late that afternoon, and noting the state of the
sea. "Too bad, poor little woman!" he added gently, as he followed her.
"Not so fast! Not so fast! There is no need of rushing to destruction.
It comes soon enough without our going out to meet it. Poor girl!"