pt for the fact that there seemed
no place from which such a pole or rod might have been extended. He
gazed out of the library window, across the court to the row of dormer
windows in the house opposite. The distance from the nearest of them, to
Ruth's window was, as he had before observed, at least twenty feet
horizontally, or some twenty-three feet on the diagonal. Then there was
the distance from the window to the dressing table, at least eight feet
more, to be added, making necessary a rod over thirty feet long. And he
saw at a glance that even could a rod of this length be secured and
handled, the angle made by a line from the dormer window through Ruth's
window was such that the end of the rod or pole would strike the floor
only a few feet beyond the windowsill, and in no possible way could its
further end be elevated sufficiently to deposit the letter in front of
the dressing table. The thing was manifestly out of the question, even
had the window of the girl's room been _wide open_. And Mrs. Morton had
assured him with the greatest positiveness that it had been open, at the
time the letter was found, _but a few inches_. He returned the letters
to his pocket and rose.

"The thing is astonishing--remarkable," he said to Mrs. Morton, who was
regarding him intently. "I confess that so far I am quite in the dark. I
feel sure that whoever entered the room, or left the message, must have
done so by means of the fire-escape, and yet, how was it possible,
without marks having been left upon the paint? I think I shall make
another and even more careful examination, in the hope that some slight
clues may have escaped me." He once more made his way toward the girl's
room, followed by Mrs. Morton.

The room was precisely as they had left it. The window facing to the
rear was wide open, Duvall having omitted to close it after his
examination of the fire escape. The window fronting on the court was
raised perhaps six inches. And yet, to the utter amazement of them both,
there lay on the floor of the room, near its center, a square white
envelope, addressed in typewriting to Ruth Morton.

Duvall sprang forward and seized it with an exclamation of astonishment.
It bore the same seal, in the same black wax, and upon it was the same
semi-circular row of indentations. He tore the letter open. Its
typewritten message was brief but significant. "Only twenty-seven days
more," it read. The grinning death's head seal seemed to Duvall'