sing, George reached forward, caught her arm, and swung the light
away from this desolate reminder of tragedy.

"No wonder!" she whispered. "No wonder Slim didn't have the nerve to
come back and do those same things. He'd have seen the man he'd killed
between him and his work."

Garth could scarcely catch her voice.

"If I thought you had that much nerve, George, I might--I believe I
might--"

She broke off abruptly. George stared at her, then turned back and
fumbled for the knob.

"Try to keep the light steady, Nora."

There was a beseeching, child-like quality in his tone. He worked with
difficulty now. His hands were no longer perfect mechanical tools. They
wavered about the knob. His lips twitched. Perspiration thickened on his
face. Garth saw drops glitter and fall slowly to the stained carpet.

Garth caught himself paradoxically wishing George to hurry. For a moment
he was relieved when a new sound came from the combination, and George
with a sigh turned the handle.

"Ready to open," he said.

He swung on Nora.

"Talk about Slim! Crying, Nora? Good Lord--"

"Don't, George," she said. "If I half close my eyes I can see him
through my tears, lying here in the shadows. Can't you?"

He clasped his arms about her. He hid his eyes in her hair.

"Hush," he said hoarsely. "And, while Simmons does his work, give me
that kiss."

Garth's fingers reached out, then he thought of the frayed piece of
paper possibly in the inspector's hands and already urging the night to
a successful climax. This anguish, too, he must suffer. So he drew back
profoundly shaken.

Nora, however, was protecting her lips.

"You promised--" George began.

"I said if you had that much nerve. But I know you haven't. Even if you
had croaked him you wouldn't dare acknowledge it here. Why, George,
you're kneeling where he lay."

He threw back his shoulders. He laughed demonstratively.

"What difference does that make? I'm kneeling to you. And let Slim rave.
I'll give you your price. You needn't be ashamed to kiss me, Nora. It
wasn't Slim. I did it. The cop jumped me from behind that sofa, and I
let him have the knife."

He raised his lips expectantly.

Garth didn't understand at first. He only realized with a savage joy
that their lips did not touch. Yet he questioned why the big man,
instead of answering the temptation of that mouth, half-open and
inviting, drooped backwards until he lay stretched on the floor.

George's cry