eds or bedding. At this
prison there was no fire or lights. Almost every day two or three
were carried out dead; some of them frequently lay at the entrance
to the bridge unburied four or five days.

Stanislav found his brother a prisoner in this place. It appeared
certain to him that his brother would not survive the terrible
conditions more than a few days longer. He thereupon changed
uniforms with his brother and forced the latter to leave the
prison, himself remaining with the probability of facing a firing
squad.

This paper mentioned Colonel Thomas C. Fletcher, of Blair's
Brigade, commander of the Missouri Wide Awake Zouaves, being
wounded and captured by the Confederates and with twenty other
men, privates and officers, being put into this prison.

Reporters, special writers, novelists spread themselves in this
Sunday edition. They extracted from the situation all the thrill,
glamour and romance they could. And permeating it all was the
terrible threat of death that hung over the heads of the Tontine
group; the mysterious "14," who for all these years had followed
the group relentlessly with his terrible reminders.

And, strange to say, with the major newspapers and police of two
countries making an exhaustive search, there was not one tangible
clue leading to the murderer or murderers. The newspapers talked
of "clues." The police of many communities talked of "clues." They
issued statements to the effect that shortly there would be new
developments. Jimmy, the veteran newspaperman, took this all for
exactly what it was worth. He knew that most of it or all of it
was "dope." The reporters had run out of facts and were having
recourse to vague speculations. Strange too, Jimmy wondered that
in a story so replete with color and glamour, that this should be
the situation.

The story was less than three days old; that is a long time
counted in editions. Many editions had gone to press. City, state
and Federal police were actively on the job. And now, when Jimmy
was reading the Sunday papers, nearly sixty hours had elapsed
since the news of the first death had come to Justice Higginbotham's
camp and the police had not a single shred of evidence linking the
murders to any one.

Professor Brierly's name did not have a prominent part in any of
the stories he had read. Jimmy knew why. Professor Brierly was
averse to being quoted unless he had something definite to say. He
never gave an opinion unless it was an op