ck
again by the heavy silence--it was almost oppressive, coming after the
rain--I went to the window. I stood there, I don't know how long. I
think I was day-dreaming, lazily running things over in my mind. I don't
think it was very long.

"And then father turned on the light in his room." She made a quick
gesture with her left hand, wonderfully expressive of shock. "I shall
never forget that! The long, narrow panel of light reached out into the
dark like an ugly, yellow arm--reached out just far enough to touch and
lay hold of the picture there on the grass; a woman lying on the
drenched ground, her face up, and bending over her Judge Wilton and
Berne--Mr. Webster.

"I knew she'd been hurt dreadfully; her feet were drawn up, her knees
high; and I could see the looks of horror on the men's faces."

She paused, giving all her strength to the effort to retain her
self-control before the assailing memory of what she had seen.

"That was all, Miss Sloane?" the detective prompted, in a kindly tone.

"Yes, quite," she said. "But I'd heard Berne's--what he was saying to
you--and the judge's description of what they'd seen; and I thought you
would like to know of the footsteps I'd heard--because they were the
murderer's; they must have been. I knew it was important, most
important."

"You were entirely right," he agreed warmly. "Thank you, very much."

He went the length of the room and halted by one of the bookcases, a
weird, lumpy old figure among the shadows in the corner. He was scraping
his cheek with his thumb, and looking at the ceiling, over the rims of
his spectacles.

Arthur Sloane sighed his impatience.

"Those knees drawn up," Hastings said at last; "I was just thinking.
They weren't drawn up when I saw the body. Were they?"

"We'd straightened the limbs," Webster answered. "Thought I'd mentioned
that."

"No.--Then, there might have been a struggle? You think the woman had
put up a fight--for her life?--and was overpowered?"

"Well," deliberated Webster, "perhaps; even probably."

"Strange," commented the detective, equally deliberate. "I hadn't
thought so. I would have said she'd been struck down unawares--without
the slightest warning."

IV

HASTINGS IS RETAINED

Arrival of the officials, Sheriff Crown and the coroner, Dr. Garnet,
brought the conference to an abrupt close. Hastings, seeing the look in
the girl's eyes, left the library in advance of the other men. Lucille
followed him