nteresting."

With that he went to his room and to bed.

The dull gray of a damp spring morning was peering in at his window
when he awoke. By the light he knew that it was hours before his usual
time. Something had aroused him; but he could not say what. He sat up
in bed, and as he did so there came the long continued and smothered
ringing of a bell.

"The telephone," said he.

"R-r-r-r-ring-g!" it persisted. And then again:
"R-r-r-r-ring-ing-ing! R-r-r-ring!"

Ashton-Kirk heard a door open and close softly on the floor above;
then slippered feet came pat-patting down the stairs. The wild rattle
of the bell suddenly stopped; a muffled voice could be heard
protesting dismally against the din. But suddenly the vague complaint
gave way to a higher note.

"Alarm," said Ashton-Kirk. "Something has happened."

He reached up and turned on the electric bulb that hung above his
head; then he drew his feet up under him after the fashion of a Turk
and waited, calmly.

The padded steps swiftly approached his door; a sharp knock sounded on
the panels.

"Well?" demanded the young man.

"There is an urgent call, sir," came the voice of Stumph--"on the
telephone. It's the lady who called yesterday--Miss Vale."

Ashton-Kirk slipped from the bed; a step brought him to the door,
which he threw open.

"Very well, Stumph," said he, quietly. "You may go back to bed."

The grave-faced German went stolidly down the hall; the young man
pulled on a pair of felt slippers; in the library he put the detached
receiver to his ear and spoke evenly:

"Well, Miss Vale?"

There was a small, gasping exclamation from the wire, a sort of
breath-catching flutter of sound such as a person might utter who had
been running hard. Then Edyth Vale, her voice shaking and filled with
fear, said:

"Oh! Is that you! I'm glad--glad!"

"Get a firm grip on yourself," advised Ashton-Kirk. "If anything has
happened we can no doubt remedy it."

There came a series of moaning sobs across the wire; the girl had
evidently broken down and was crying. Ashton-Kirk said nothing; he
waited patiently. Finally she spoke once more.

"What has happened can _never_ be remedied." Then her voice sank so
low that he could scarcely catch the breathless words. "There has been
murder done."

The investigator felt the blood prickle beneath his skin. However, his
voice was steady as he replied; his calmly working mind shook off the
fear which she so strongly sugges