directed at him,
and it might be very difficult for him to establish his innocence. Who
would believe that he could have fallen asleep in a bed while a man
killed himself in the same room? It sounded preposterous. The wisest
course for him would be to get away before anybody came.

Quickly he picked up his hat and made for the door. Just as he was about
to lay his hand on the handle there was the click of a latchkey. Thus
headed off, and not knowing what to do, he halted in painful suspense.
The door opened and a man entered.

He looked as surprised to see Howard as the latter was to see him. He
was clean-shaven and neatly dressed, yet did not look the gentleman. His
appearance was rather that of a servant. All these details flashed
before Howard's mind before he blurted out:

"Who the devil are you?"

The man looked astounded at the question and eyed his interlocutor
closely, as if in doubt as to his identity. In a cockney accent he said
loftily:

"I am Ferris, Mr. Underwood's man, sir." Suspiciously, he added: "Are
you a friend of Mr. Underwood's, sir?"

He might well ask the question, for Howard's disheveled appearance and
ghastly face, still distorted by terror, was anything but reassuring.
Taken by surprise, Howard did not know what to say, and like most people
questioned at a disadvantage, he answered foolishly:

"Matter? No. What makes you think anything is the matter?"

Brushing past the man, he added: "It's late. I'm going."

"Stop a minute!" cried the man-servant. There was something in Howard's
manner that he did not like. Passing quickly into the sitting room, he
called out: "Stop a minute!" But Howard did not stop. Terror gave him
wings and, without waiting for the elevator, he was already half way
down the first staircase when he heard shouts behind him.

"Murder! Stop thief! Stop that man! Stop that man!"

There was a rush of feet and hum of voices, which made Howard run all
the faster. He leaped down four steps at a time in his anxiety to get
away. But it was no easy matter descending so many flights of stairs. It
took him several minutes to reach the main floor.

By this time the whole hotel was aroused. Telephone calls had quickly
warned the attendants, who had promptly sent for the police. By the time
Howard reached the main entrance he was intercepted by a mob too
numerous to resist.

Things certainly looked black for him. As he sat, white and trembling,
under guard in a corner of the