the howl of a dog in front of the house. It wailed a crescendo of
woe that trailed off hopefully, only to break out afresh from a new
point of the compass.

At three o'clock in the morning I was roused by a revolver shot. The
sound seemed to come from just outside my door. For a moment I could
not move. Then--I heard Gertrude stirring in her room, and the next
moment she had thrown open the connecting door.

"O Aunt Ray! Aunt Ray!" she cried hysterically. "Some one has been
killed, killed!"

"Thieves," I said shortly. "Thank goodness, there are some men in the
house to-night." I was getting into my slippers and a bath-robe, and
Gertrude with shaking hands was lighting a lamp. Then we opened the
door into the hall, where, crowded on the upper landing of the stairs,
the maids, white-faced and trembling, were peering down, headed by
Liddy. I was greeted by a series of low screams and questions, and I
tried to quiet them.

Gertrude had dropped on a chair and sat there limp and shivering.

I went at once across the hall to Halsey's room and knocked; then I
pushed the door open. It was empty; the bed had not been occupied!

"He must be in Mr. Bailey's room," I said excitedly, and followed by
Liddy, we went there. Like Halsey's, it had not been occupied!
Gertrude was on her feet now, but she leaned against the door for
support.

"They have been killed!" she gasped. Then she caught me by the arm and
dragged me toward the stairs. "They may only be hurt, and we must find
them," she said, her eyes dilated with excitement.

I don't remember how we got down the stairs: I do remember expecting
every moment to be killed. The cook was at the telephone up-stairs,
calling the Greenwood Club, and Liddy was behind me, afraid to come and
not daring to stay behind. We found the living-room and the
drawing-room undisturbed. Somehow I felt that whatever we found would
be in the card-room or on the staircase, and nothing but the fear that
Halsey was in danger drove me on; with every step my knees seemed to
give way under me. Gertrude was ahead and in the card-room she
stopped, holding her candle high. Then she pointed silently to the
doorway into the hall beyond. Huddled there on the floor, face down,
with his arms extended, was a man.

Gertrude ran forward with a gasping sob. "Jack," she cried, "oh, Jack!"

Liddy had run, screaming, and the two of us were there alone. It was
Gertrude who turned him over, finall