l to the house indicated, and there found
the body of Thomas Burton, a "well-known clubman," stretched out upon
the floor of the sitting-room--dead--and with a frightful wound in the
head.

"The house is occupied by Frank Burton, the cartoonist for the _Morning
Standard_, and his sister Mary, who has been an invalid for some years.
These are the son and daughter of the dead man. They say they had not,
up to last night, seen their father for a long time; his visit was a
surprise and not at all a welcome one, it would appear, as they had not
been upon good terms. According to the story told by young Burton, he
and his sister left the room in which their father sat; when the young
man returned, he found his father dead, as stated."

Paper after paper was feverishly scanned by Bat, but they merely
repeated the few, bare facts. Ashton-Kirk had turned from the window and
was watching the big trainer in some surprise.

"It's a pretty hard pull for a man when he's talked comfortably with a
friend, and said 'good-bye' to him, and, then, the next thing he hears,
is that he's been outrageously murdered." Dennison seemed unable to rid
his mind of this overpowering fact. "It was then I started to go under;
it was just as if somebody had struck me under the heart, and I caved
right in."

Here there came a sudden bustle from the office, the closing of doors,
the dragging of a chair across the floor. Then the voice of Danny came
squeakingly.

"Mr. Scanlon! Wanted in the office!"

"Right," said Bat, promptly. Then, to Ashton-Kirk, he added: "Stick
around for a little, will you? I may have something to tell you."

And then, with hurried steps, he vanished into the adjoining room.

CHAPTER II

BAT SCANLON IS SURPRISED

In the office, Bat Scanlon felt himself suddenly clutched by a creature
who seemed at first to be all rich silks, soft furs, dazzling complexion
and delicate perfume; but an instant later this impression failed; for
he knew that she was all eyes--great, brown, intelligent eyes--and a
voice which made one's heart tremble when she spoke.

"Oh, Bat, I'm glad you're in this big, cold city this morning," said the
voice, gratefully, while the long lashes held two great perilous tears.
"If you hadn't been, I don't know what I should have done."

"Danny," said Bat to the red-haired boy, "go sweep up, or something."

"Yes, sir," replied Danny, promptly, and was gone.

Mr. Scanlon then saw that his unusual vi