en I lay there for an hour, wondering how I was going
to get the notes. Some one in lower nine was restless and wide awake,
but finally became quiet.

"The man in ten was sleeping heavily. I could hear his breathing, and it
seemed to be only a question of getting across and behind the curtains
of his berth without being seen. After that, it was a mere matter of
quiet searching.

"The car became very still. I was about to try for the other berth, when
some one brushed softly past, and I lay back again.

"Finally, however, when things had been quiet for a time, I got up, and
after looking along the aisle, I slipped behind the curtains of lower
ten. You understand, Mr. Blakeley, that I thought you were in lower ten,
with the notes."

I nodded curtly.

"I'm not trying to defend myself," he went on. "I was ready to steal the
notes--I had to. But murder!"

He wiped his forehead with his handkerchief.

"Well, I slipped across and behind the curtains. It was very still. The
man in ten didn't move, although my heart was thumping until I thought
he would hear it.

"I felt around cautiously. It was perfectly dark, and I came across a
bit of chain, about as long as my finger. It seemed a queer thing to
find there, and it was sticky, too."

He shuddered, and I could see Alison's hands clenching and unclenching
with the strain.

"All at once it struck me that the man was strangely silent, and I think
I lost my nerve. Anyhow, I drew the curtains open a little, and let the
light fall on my hands. They were red, blood-red."

He leaned one hand on the back of the chair, and was silent for a
moment, as though he lived over again the awful events of that more than
awful night.

The stout detective had let his cigar go out; he was still drawing at it
nervously. Richey had picked up a paper-weight and was tossing it from
hand to hand; when it slipped and fell to the floor, a startled shudder
passed through the room.

"There was something glittering in there," Sullivan resumed, "and on
impulse I picked it up. Then I dropped the curtains and stumbled back to
my own berth."

"Where you wiped your hands on the bed-clothing and stuck the dirk
into the pillow." Hotchkiss was seeing his carefully built structure
crumbling to pieces, and he looked chagrined.

"I suppose I did--I'm not very clear about what happened then. But when
I rallied a little I saw a Russia leather wallet lying in the aisle
almost at my feet, and, like a f