vanished from sight. But far
out into the distance, almost to the horizon, I could plainly see a
large steamer headed toward the vast ocean beyond. I looked around in a
confused sort of a way, and discovered, to my surprise, that I was
standing almost at the water's edge on one of the docks near Battery
Place. It was daylight, and the sun was shining overhead. I then
concluded that I must have been out of my head for some time, and
questioning a stranger, who stood nearby, I learned that just fourteen
hours had elapsed since I had bade Arletta good-bye, and I could form no
recollection of the slightest incident that happened since then.

After watching the steamer until it had disappeared from view, I slowly
walked to a bench in Battery Park and sat down, in the depths of
despair, to reflect upon the strange occurrence. I must have sat there
for about an hour in deep meditation, when my attention was attracted by
a newspaper urchin, shouting at the top of his voice: "Paper! Extra! All
about the great murder." At the same time he rushed up to me, pushed a
paper into my hand, took the penny I offered him mechanically, and
scampered along.

"Another murder," mused I; "what a pity human beings cannot dwell
together without taking each other's lives."

Glancing over the headlines, I learned from the big black type that a
beautiful young woman had been murdered in cold blood. Reading further,
I was horrified to find that the young woman's name was Arletta Fogg,
and that she was murdered in her own rooms, at the Seraglio Apartments,
Central Park West. I could hardly believe my eyes saw the thing aright.
I felt sure that it must be an optical illusion wrought by my constant
thought of Arletta. I looked again and again, yet read ever the same
words, and, laboring under tremendous excitement, I hurriedly perused
the account of the murder. It stated that about eleven o'clock of the
previous night Arletta Fogg had arrived at the apartment house, and had
been taken to her rooms by the elevator attendant. A half hour later a
tall, smooth-faced, white-haired gentleman arrived, and was shown to her
apartments. This man was seen by the watchman to leave the place at
three o'clock in the morning, and the chambermaid discovered her at ten
o'clock in the morning, dead, and covered with blood from several stabs
in the body.

Cold perspiration oozed from every pore of my body as I read and re-read
this article, over and over again. I was