e head, and is lying covered with blood at the foot of her
dining-room table."

Mr. Lord and the District Attorney stared at each other in a maze of
surprise and horror easily to be comprehended, and then they rushed
forward.

"Wait a moment," the latter suddenly cried, stopping short and looking
back. "Where is the fellow who talked so learnedly about murder and the
best way of making a success of it. He must be found at once. I don't
believe in coincidences." And he beckoned to the person they had called
Byrd, who with very pardonable curiosity was hurrying their way. "Go
find Hunt, the constable," he cried; "tell him to stop and retain the
humpback. A woman here has been found murdered, and that fellow must
have known something about it."

The young man stared, flushed with sudden intelligence, and darted off.
Mr. Ferris turned, found Mr. Orcutt still at his side, and drew him
forward to rejoin Mr. Lord, who by this time was at the door of the
cottage.

They all went in together, Mr. Ferris, who was of an adventurous
disposition, leading the way. The room into which they first stepped was
empty. It was evidently the widow's sitting-room, and was in perfect
order, with the exception of Mr. Orcutt's hat, which lay on the
centre-table where he had laid it on entering. Neat, without being
prim, the entire aspect of the place was one of comfort, ease, and
modest luxury. For, though the Widow Clemmens lived alone and without
help, she was by no means an indigent person, as a single glance at her
house would show. The door leading into the farther room was open, and
toward this they hastened, led by the glitter of the fine old china
service which loaded the dining-table.

"She is there," said Mr. Orcutt, pointing to the other side of the room.

They immediately passed behind the table, and there, sure enough, lay
the prostrate figure of the widow, her head bleeding, her arms extended,
one hand grasping her watch, which she had loosened from her belt, the
other stretched toward a stick of firewood, that, from the mark of blood
upon its side, had evidently been used to fell her to the floor. She was
motionless as stone, and was, to all appearance, dead.

"Sickening, sickening!--horrible!" exclaimed Mr. Lord, recoiling upon
the District Attorney with a gesture, as if he would put the frightful
object out of his sight. "What motive could any one have for killing
such an inoffensive woman? The deviltry of man is beyond b