lip with a fixed,
dull smile:

WANTED FOR MURDER!

The authorities of Coweta offer THREE HUNDRED DOLLARS for the
apprehension of the below, Iscah Nicholas, convicted of the murder
of Elizabeth Slakto, an aged woman.

General description: Age about forty-eight. Head receding, with
large nose and stupid expression. Body corpulent but strong.
Nicholas has no trade and works at general utility. He is a
homicidal maniac.

WANTED FOR MURDER!

"He told me that his name was Nicholas Brandt," Millie noted in her
dull voice.

A new gravity possessed John Woolfolk.

"You must not go back to the house," he decided.

"Wait," she replied. "I was terribly frightened when he went up to his
room. When he came down he thanked me for cleaning it. I told him he
was mistaken, that I hadn't been in there, but I could see he was
suspicious. He cried all the time he was cooking dinner, in a queer,
choked way; and afterward touched me--on the arm. I swam, but all the
water in the bay wouldn't take away the feel of his fingers. Then I
saw the boat--you came ashore.

"Nicholas was dreadfully upset, and hid in the pines for a day or
more. He told me if I spoke of him it would happen, and if I left it
would happen--to father. Then he came back. He said that you
were--were in love with me, and that I must send you away. He added
that you must go today, for he couldn't stand waiting any more. He
said that he wanted to be right, but that things were against him.
This morning he got dreadful--if I fooled him he'd get you, and me,
too, and then there was always father for something extra special.
That, he warned me, would happen if I stayed away for more than an
hour." She rose, trembling violently. "Perhaps it's been an hour now.
I must go back."

John Woolfolk thought rapidly; his face was grim. If he had brought a
pistol from the ketch he would have shot Iscah Nicholas without
hesitation. Unarmed, he was reluctant to precipitate a crisis with
such serious possibilities. He could secure one from the _Gar_, but
even that short lapse of time might prove fatal--to Millie or
Lichfield Stope. Millie's story was patently fact in every detail. He
thought more rapidly still--desperately.

"I must go back," she repeated, her words lost in a sudden blast of
wind under the dilapidated roof.

He saw that she was right.

"Very well," he acquiesced. "Tell him that you saw me, and