one other thing--more important still. What's that book,
open, on the table?"

I glanced at its leathern cover. "The Bible," I told him.

"The Holy Book. And how often do you find a worldly man like this
Nealman getting out the Bible and reading it? Doesn't it show that he
was planning something mighty serious--that he wanted to give his soul
every chance before he took the last step? It's a common thing for
suicides to read the Bible the last thing. And what are these?"

He showed me a rumpled sheet of paper, procured from the waste-basket,
on which had been written a number of unrelated figures.

"I can't say," I told him. "Probably he was doing some figuring about
his losses."

"Looks to me like he was out of his head--was just writin' any old
figures down. But maybe you're right."

It was true that the bed had not been slept in. Nealman had lain down on
it, however, and disarranged the spread. Many cigarette and cigar stubs
filled the smoking stand, and a half-filled whiskey-and-soda glass stood
on the window sill.

No other clews were revealed, so we went down to the study. The guests
of Kastle Krags had not gone back to their beds. They sat in a little
white-faced group beside the window, talking quietly. Marten beckoned
the sheriff to his side.

"What have you found out, Slatterly?" he asked.

He spoke like a man used to having his questions answered. There was a
note of impatience in his voice, too, perhaps of distrust. Slatterly
straightened.

"Nothing definite. Nealman has unquestionably vanished. His bed hasn't
been slept in, but is ruffled. Undoubtedly it was his voice we heard. I
think I'll be able to give you something definite in a little while."

"I'd like something definite now, if you could possibly give it. That's
two men that have disappeared in two nights--and we seem to be no nearer
an explanation than we were at first. This isn't a business that can be
delayed, Mr. Slatterly."

"If you must know--I think both men committed suicide."

"You do!"

"It certainly is the most reasonable theory, in spite of all there is
against it." Then he told of Nealman's financial disaster, of the Bible
open on his desk, and all the other points he had to back his theory.

"And I suppose Florey swallowed his knife, and threw his own body into
the lagoon!" Fargo commented grimly.

Slatterly turned to him, his eyes hard and bright. "We'll have your
jokes to-morrow," he reproved him sternly. "Of cou