"Be at office District Attorney to-morrow ten o'clock. I will take
your advice and surrender. Medjora."

"Well, Robert, what of it?"

"What of it? Has the Western Union an office in the other world now,
that dead men may send telegrams?"

"Certainly not. Therefore this was sent before he died."

"Before he died!" This unthought-of possibility shattered the rising
hopes of Mr. Bliss. He made one more effort, however, saying:

"What is the date?"

"Why, the date is to-day!" said Mr. Dudley, slowly. "Singular! But it
is an error, of course."

"Why do you say 'of course'?" asked his partner, testily. "You seem to
be anxious to lose this case. Now, how do you know that Medjora is
dead after all?"

"Why Barnes saw him go into the building, and he could not have
escaped, for the place was surrounded by the police."

"There is no telling what that man can do. I verily believe that he is
more than human, after the way in which he read my thoughts yesterday.
I am going to probe this thing to the bottom." And before his partner
could detain him, he had taken down his hat and rushed off.

Two hours later, he returned discouraged. At the main office he had
been referred to a branch, far uptown. Arriving there he found that
the operator who had sent the despatch had gone off duty. The original
blank upon which the message had been written was undated. So he
learned practically nothing.

"Never mind," said he, doggedly, after relating his ill-success, "I
will go to the District-Attorney's office to-morrow, and wait for that
man whether he come, or his ghost. I firmly believe that one or the
other will do so."

"I will go with you," said Mr. Dudley. "Only promise me to say
nothing, unless our man turns up."

At half-past nine on the next morning, both of the young lawyers were
at the appointed place. Mr. Dudley sat down and read, or appeared to
read, the paper. Mr. Bliss walked about impatiently, leaving the room
occasionally to go out into the hall and stand at the main doorway,
looking into the street.

A few moments before ten o'clock the District Attorney himself arrived
and nodded pleasantly to the young men, with whom he was acquainted.

"Waiting for me?" he asked of Mr. Dudley.

"No! I am waiting for a client," was the quiet rejoinder. Mr. Bliss
started to speak, but a signal from his partner reminded him of his
injunction.

"Strange news in the morning paper," remarked the District Attorney,
evidently ful