out startlingly. "If we're going to hear an
account of all the women that Tom lectured and made cry--leave me out of
it."

"One woman will do, for this time," I said to him drily, "if it's the
right one," and he subsided, turning away. But he did not go. With
burning eyes, he stood and listened while I cross-examined the unwilling
Chung and got apparently a straight story showing that some woman had
come to the side door of his master's house shortly after dinner
Saturday night, walked to the study with that master, weeping, and that
her voice when he heard it, sounded like that of some one he knew. I
tried every way in the world to get him to be specific about this voice;
did it sound like that of a young lady? an old lady? did he think it was
some one he knew well, or only a little? had he been hearing it much
lately? All the usual tactics; but Chung's placid obstinacy was proof
against them. He kept shaking his head and saying over and over,

"No hear um good," until Barbara, standing watchfully by, said,

"Chung, you think that lady talk like this?"

As she spoke, after the first word, a change had come into her voice; it
was lighter, higher, with a something in its character faintly
reminiscent to my ear. And Chung bobbed his head quickly, nodding
assent. In her mimicry he had recognized the tones of the visitor. I
glanced at Edwards: he looked positively relieved.

"I'll go to the house, Worth," he said with more composure in his tone
than I would have thought a few moments ago he could in any way summon.
"You'll find me there." And he followed the Chinaman up the moonlit
path.

CHAPTER XII

A MURDER

I stood at the door and watched until I saw first Chung's head come into
the light on the kitchen porch, then Jim Edwards's black poll follow it.
I waited until both had gone into the house and the door was shut,
before I went back to Barbara and Worth. They were speaking together in
low tones over at the hearth. The three of us were alone; and the
blood-stain on the rug, out of sight there in the shadow beyond the
table, would seem to cry out as a fourth.

"Barbara," I broke in across their talk, "who was the woman who came
here to this place last night?"

She didn't answer me. Instead, it was Worth who spoke.

"Better come here and listen to what Bobs has been saying to me, Jerry,
before you ask any questions."

I crossed and stood between the two young people.

"Well," I grunted; and thoug