hton, that every time this case takes one
step forward, it slides back two. Jason Bolt is getting fearfully down
in the mouth. When this news reaches him it will be the finishing
touch."

"I had a talk with him this afternoon," said the detective, and flicked
his cigarette over the veranda rail. "Reminded him that Rome wasn't
built in a day and that murderers aren't always caught in a night, that
the darkest hour is just before the dawn, and dropped a few other
comforting thoughts in similar vein. I also mentioned that one never
knew in a case of this kind when something might happen--"

"_It's happening now!_"

Krech hissed the words in a fierce whisper. His eyes had automatically
followed the detective's glowing cigarette and had been attracted by
something farther off, barely visible through the deepening dusk.
Almost before Miss Ocky and Creighton could sense the meaning of his
words, he had sprung to his feet and vaulted the veranda railing.
Thanks to a downhill slope of the ground at this point the piazza floor
was a full nine feet from the grass lawn, and they heard a hearty grunt
as Krech alighted. Then he recovered his footing and sped with
extraordinary swiftness for so large a man across the sward in the
direction of that woods that edged it.

"What is it?" gasped Miss Ocky. "Oh--what is it?"

"The monk!" cried Creighton. "The monk!"

His glance, darting ahead of the speeding Krech, had discerned an
unmistakable figure outlined against a clump of white birch as though
the monk had deliberately chosen a background against which he would be
most conspicuous to the group on the piazza. He was standing there
motionless, apparently indifferent to the rushing menace of Krech, and
through the detective's brain, searing it like a flame, shot the memory
of something Sherwood had said, "I thought the fellow would run, but
instead of that he waited!" He was waiting now!

"Krech!" cried the detective. "_Careful--careful!_"

His hands were on the rail of the veranda. It had not taken two
seconds for him to size the situation and shout his warning, and those
same seconds were occupied in getting out of his chair and dashing to
the rail. He had one leg over this when two hands like steel clamps
circled his right arm and gripped him fiercely.

"Please--oh, _please_!" stammered a frightened voice.

"_Ocky!_" he gasped in furious protest. "_Leggo!_"

He wrenched himself free and went sprawling over t