ants who had left and had never been
removed. This yard was separated only by a rotting fence with a single
wooden rail from a small blind alley.

The alley had run between rows of stables in former days when this was
a fashionable quarter, but now these were mostly unoccupied, save for a
few more pretentious ones at the lower end, which were being converted
into garages.

Everywhere were heaps of brick, piles of rain-rotted wood, and
rubbish-heaps.

I took up my burden and placed it at the end of the alley, covering it
roughly with some old burlap bags which lay there. I thought it safe
to assume that the police would look upon the dead man as the victim of
some footpad. It was only remotely possible that suspicion would be
directed against any occupant of any of the houses bordering on the
_cul-de-sac_.

I did not search the dead man's pockets. I cared nothing who he was,
and did not want to know. My sole desire was to acquit Jacqueline of
his death in the world's eyes.

That he had come deservedly by it I was positive. I was her sole
protector now, and I felt a furious resolve that no one should rob me
of her.

The ground was as hard as iron, and I was satisfied that my footsteps
had left no track; there would be snow before morning, and if my feet
had left any traces these would be covered effectively.

Four o'clock was striking while I was climbing back into the room
again. Jacqueline lay on the bed in the same position; she had not
stirred during that hour. While she slept I set about the completion
of my task.

I took the knife from the floor where I had flung it, scrubbed it, and
placed it in my suit-case. Then I scrubbed the floor clean, afterward
rubbing it with a soiled rag to make its appearance uniform.

I washed my hands, and thought I had finally removed all traces of the
affair; but, coming back, I perceived something upon the floor which
had escaped my notice. It was the leather collar of the Eskimo dog,
with its big silver studs and the maker's silver name-plate.

All this while the animal had remained perfectly quiet in the room
crouching at Jacqueline's feet and beside the bed. It had not
attempted to molest me, as I had feared might be the case during the
course of my gruesome work.

I came to the conclusion that there might have been a struggle; that it
had run to its mistress's assistance, and that the collar had been torn
from it by the dead man.

My first thought was