ut you said it was eight miles," said Mr. Piper.

"Eight miles easy walking," rejoined Mr. Cox. "Or there's a train at
three o'clock. There's a sign-post at the corner there, and if you don't
hurry I shall be able to catch you up. Good-bye."

He patted the hesitating Mr. Piper on the back, and letting him
out through the garden, indicated the road. Then he returned to the
drawing-room, and carefully rumpling his hair, tore his collar from the
stud, overturned a couple of chairs and a small table, and sat down to
wait as patiently as he could for the return of his wife.

He waited about twenty minutes, and then he heard a key turn in the door
below and his wife's footsteps slowly mounting the stairs. By the time
she reached the drawing-room his tableau was complete, and she fell back
with a faint shriek at the frenzied figure which met her eyes.

"Hush," said the tragedian, putting his finger to his lips.

"Henry, what is it?" cried Mrs. Cox. "What _is_ the matter?"

"The broker's man," said her husband, in a thrilling whisper. "We had
words--he struck me. In a fit of fury I--I--choked him."

"Much?" inquired the bewildered woman.

"_Much?_" repeated Mr. Cox, frantically. "I've killed him and hidden the
body. Now I must escape and fly the country."

The bewilderment on Mrs. Cox's face increased; she was trying to
reconcile her husband's statement with a vision of a trim little figure
which she had seen ten minutes before with its head tilted backwards
studying the sign-post, and which she was now quite certain was Mr.
Piper.

[Illustration: Studying the sign-post 244]

"Are you sure he's dead?" she inquired.

"Dead as a door nail," replied Mr. Cox, promptly. "I'd no idea he was
such a delicate little man. What am I to do? Every moment adds to my
danger. I must fly. How much money have you got?"

The question explained everything. Mrs. Cox closed her lips with a snap
and shook her head.

"Don't play the fool," said her husband, wildly; "my neck's in danger."

"I haven't got anything," asseverated Mrs. Cox. "It's no good looking
like that, Henry, I can't make money."

Mr. Cox's reply was interrupted by a loud knock at the hall door,
which he was pleased to associate with the police. It gave him a fine
opportunity for melodrama, in the midst of which his wife, rightly
guessing that Mrs. Berry had returned according to arrangement, went
to the door to admit her. The visitor was only busy two minutes on the