from the back. They were
searching the house. One called down-stairs: 'They've gone over the
roofs towards MacDougall street,' whereupon several of the police
started to run down the block to the corner of MacDougall and the
reporter followed. He was just in time to see two men issue from a
tenement house carrying what looked like the corpse of a third between
them. The body was wrapped in an old cotton comforter. They threw it
in a waiting taxi and made a getaway though the police fired in the
air, and ordered them to stop. At police headquarters all information
was refused. At Mr. Deaves' residence word was sent out that Mr.
Deaves had not been out that morning. The woman who keeps the Van Dorn
street house, a Mrs. Patten, either would not or could not tell what
had happened."

At this point in the story Charley looked up to see how Evan was taking
it. Seeing Evan's expression he forgot to read the rest. Evan was
staring into vacancy as if he saw a ghost. As a matter of fact
complete recollection had returned in a great flash, and the reaction
was dizzying. His first conscious act was to feel of his temple. It
was whole.

"What's the matter with you?" cried Charley.

"I--I was that corpse," stammered Evan.

"Have you gone crazy?"

"Here, I've got to see about this!" cried Evan, and seizing his hat he
ran out.

Evan took a taxi-cab to the Deaves house. He took out his pocket book
to pay the driver. It was the first time he had used it. The money in
it was intact, but something had been added, a little note. Evan read
it while the driver made change.

"You've got good pluck. When the pistol missed fire we decided to let
you off. Take warning. Keep away from the Deaves outfit or next time
you'll get a ball."

Evan thought: "The pistol did not miss fire. It was loaded with a
blank. The whole scene was staged just to break my nerve. I passed
out temporarily just as a result of self-suggestion. Lord! what a
weak-minded fool I was! But by God! I'll get square with them! This
is how I answer their threat!"

He glared around him defiantly, hoping he was watched, and rang the
bell of the Deaves house.

The servant who opened the door looked at him queerly. This successor
to Alfred was more respectful, but Evan did not trust him much further.
"Where is Mr. George Deaves?" asked Evan.

"I don't think you can see him just now, sir," was the answer. "He's
up-stairs."

"And Mr. Simeon