voice was lower. At last it was as old as herself.

"Things always happen out there. It is crowded with the people who have
lived in this house before us--unhappy and angry people. Often I have
seen and heard the black thing out there. I would never laugh at her."

Again the doubt of her senility attacked him.

"You can't impress me with that," he said harshly. "I am talking about
McDonald. He was stabbed out there a few minutes ago."

She laughed foolishly.

"Horrid old man! But why should I want to see him stabbed?"

He watched her closely.

"I saw you strike him. You didn't have enough strength to send the blow
home."

The assurance of her voice increased his doubt. Whatever her mental
state she was at least purposeful.

"You need glasses, policeman. Don't neglect your eyes. You have only one
pair."

He felt himself against a blank wall, and there was McDonald to think
of. He asked one more question.

"When did you last see McDonald's daughter?"

"Maybe at dinner last night," she said. "Nice girl, in spite of her
father. I must go back to my knitting, policeman."

Garth left her, hurrying down stairs to the front door. He called the
policeman from the shadows of the portico, instructing him to go to the
large apartment house on the corner where he would almost certainly find
a physician.

As he gave his directions he saw Nora's slender figure cross the street
and come up the steps, and, as he looked at the pretty Latin face,
expressive of an exceptional intelligence, his morose and puzzled mind
brightened. He was surprised to see her now, and a little worried, for a
grave menace existed for every one in this house. Moreover, the case
mystified him to the point where he felt he must find the solution
himself. He didn't care to place himself again under obligations to her.
Rather he was ambitious to impress her, perhaps to the removal of her
reserve.

"Father's told me about the case," she said. "I couldn't keep away,
because you're so hard-headed, Jim."

Smiling whimsically, she glanced at his frayed watch ribbon.

"I see you haven't found the answer yet. Tell me everything you have
learned while you have been torturing that poor ribbon."

"Ghosts or not, Nora," he answered, "the house isn't healthy, and I'd
rather you didn't stay."

She laughed and walked in. Shrugging his shoulders, he followed her,
closed the door, and told her what had happened since he had telephoned
the inspector. Her f