e
rack before him. After a rapid consultation of this oracle, he flung it
down with a forcible word as Mr. Silver hurried into the room, followed
by a hard-featured man with spectacles, and a youth with an alert eye.

'I want you to jot down some facts, Figgis,' said Sir James, banishing
all signs of agitation and speaking with a rapid calmness. 'When you
have them, put them into shape just as quick as you can for a special
edition of the Sun.' The hard-featured man nodded and glanced at the
clock, which pointed to a few minutes past three; he pulled out a
notebook and drew a chair up to the big writing-table. 'Silver,' Sir
James went on, 'go and tell Jones to wire our local correspondent very
urgently, to drop everything and get down to Marlstone at once. He is
not to say why in the telegram. There must not be an unnecessary
word about this news until the Sun is on the streets with it--you all
understand. Williams, cut across the way and tell Mr. Anthony to hold
himself ready for a two-column opening that will knock the town endways.
Just tell him that he must take all measures and precautions for a
scoop. Say that Figgis will be over in five minutes with the facts, and
that he had better let him write up the story in his private room. As
you go, ask Miss Morgan to see me here at once, and tell the telephone
people to see if they can get Mr. Trent on the wire for me. After
seeing Mr. Anthony, return here and stand by.' The alert-eyed young man
vanished like a spirit.

Sir James turned instantly to Mr. Figgis, whose pencil was poised over
the paper. 'Sigsbee Manderson has been murdered,' he began quickly
and clearly, pacing the floor with his hands behind him. Mr. Figgis
scratched down a line of shorthand with as much emotion as if he had
been told that the day was fine--the pose of his craft. 'He and his wife
and two secretaries have been for the past fortnight at the house called
White Gables, at Marlstone, near Bishopsbridge. He bought it four years
ago. He and Mrs. Manderson have since spent a part of each summer there.
Last night he went to bed about half-past eleven, just as usual. No one
knows when he got up and left the house. He was not missed until this
morning. About ten o'clock his body was found by a gardener. It was
lying by a shed in the grounds. He was shot in the head, through the
left eye. Death must have been instantaneous. The body was not robbed,
but there were marks on the wrists which pointed to