ermuda--anywhere to escape
this terrible fear."

"No!" he retorted harshly. "If our suspicions are correct, and I think
we're unwarrantedly keyed up because of our recent experiences, the
officials of New York may need my help."

"Your help? Why?"

"I know more about Caleb Barter than any other living man, perhaps."

"Then you _do_ have doubts that he is dead!"

Bentley shrugged his shoulders.

"Ellen," he said, "drive on home without me. I'm going to drop off and
find out all I can. If we're in for it in any way it's just as well to
know it at once."

"You'll come right along?"

"Just as soon as I can make it. And I hope I'll be able to report our
fears groundless."

Bentley stepped from the cab. He ordered the chauffeur to turn right
into Twenty-second Street and to proceed until Ellen gave him further
directions.

Then Bentley hurried through the congestion of automobiles toward the
traffic officer who was fighting with the naked man, trying to subdue
him. Other men were running to the officer's assistance, for it could
be seen that he alone was no match for the lunatic. Bentley, however,
was first to arrive.

"Give me a hand!" gasped the officer. "I can't handle 'im without
usin' my club and I don't wanna do that. The poor fella don't know
what he's a-doin'."

- - -

Bentley quickly sprang to the patrolman's assistance. Between them
they soon reduced the stranger to a squirming bundle and dragged him
to the sidewalk; another officer was phoning for an ambulance. The
stricken man was now mumbling, babbling insanely. Blood trickled from
the corners of his lips. The sight of one eye had been destroyed.

Bentley watched him, sprawled now on the sidewalk, surrounded by a
group of men. The man was dying, no question about that. The talons,
which had scored him, had bitten deeply and he was destined to bleed
to death soon even if the wounds were not otherwise mortal.

Bentley noticed something clutched tightly in the man's right
hand--something that sent a chill through his body despite the heat of
a mid-July noon. The officer, apparently, had not noticed it.

Soon a clanging bell announced the arrival of an ambulance, and as the
crowd stepped aside to clear the way, Bentley bent over the dying man.
The man's lips were parted and he was trying with a mighty effort of
will to speak.

Bentley put his ear close to the bleeding lips through which words
strove to bubble. He heard parts of tw