and cautiously looked over.

A man was there! A man going down--no, coming up; and this man, as he
soon saw from his face and uniform, was Correy the attendant.

"So that is where _you_ were," he called down as he beckoned the man up.

"As near as I can remember. I was on my way in search of Mr. Jewett, for
whom I had a message, and had got as far as you saw me, when I heard a
cry of pain from somewhere in the gallery. This naturally quickened my
steps and I was up and on this floor in a jiffy."

"Did you notice, as you stepped from the landing, whether the boy staring
at us from the doorway over there was facing just as we see him now?"

"He was. I remember his attitude perfectly."

"Coming out of the door--not going in?"

"Sure. He was on the run. He had heard the cry too."

"And followed you into the gallery?"

"Preceded me. He was on the scene almost as soon as the man who stepped
in from the adjoining section."

"I see. And this man?"

"Was well within my view from the minute I entered the first arch.
He seemed more bewildered than frightened till he had passed the
communicating arch and nearly stumbled over the body of the girl shot
down almost at his elbow."

"And yourself?"

"I knew by his look that something dreadful had happened, and when I saw
what it was, I didn't think of anything better to do than to order the
doors shut."

"On your own initiative? Where was the Curator?"

"Not far, it seems. But he gets awfully absorbed in whatever he is doing,
and there was no time to lose. Some one had shot that arrow, some one who
might escape."

Mr. Gryce never allowed himself--or very rarely--to look at anyone full
and square in the face; yet he always seemed to form an instant opinion
of whomever he talked with. Perhaps he had already gauged this man and
not unfavorably, for he showed not the slightest distrust as he remarked
quite frankly:

"You must have had some suspicion of foul play even then, to act in so
expeditious a manner."

"I don't know what my suspicions were. I simply followed my first
impulse. I don't think it was a bad one. Do you, sir?"

"Far from it. But enough of that. Do you think"--here he drew Correy into
the gallery out of earshot of the boy, who was watching them with all the
curiosity of his fourteen years--"that this lad could have stolen from
where we are standing now to the door where you first saw him, during the
time you were making your rush up the stairs? Boys