hough when she comes around. That's about all,
Garth. Run out there and see if you can hit Randall's trail."

Garth arose.

"Seems simple, chief. Any dope on the gun?"

The inspector shook his head.

"One of these deadly automatics it ought to be a felony to have around.
Natural enough for a doctor to carry one."

He grinned.

"Got to kill their patients one way or another."

"Nothing been disturbed?" Garth asked.

"No. They've taken Treving away, but the room's just as it was when they
were found."

Garth moved towards the door.

"I know you'll bring Randall in," the inspector called.

"I'll do my best," Garth answered.

He hurried through the outer office. Perhaps the inspector was right and
the case promised no unusual excitement, but at least it possessed
interest.

It was late in the afternoon when he reached the station near Elmford.
He inquired the way from the agent.

"It's about ten minutes' walk," the man replied. "Maybe you're a
reporter or a cop? Say, there's no mystery about that case. Any word of
the doctor?"

Garth smiled discreetly. He disentangled himself from the agent's
curiosity and set off along a road bordered by unlovely suburban
dwellings.

These soon gave way to fields and hedges which in turn straggled into a
miniature forest. Just beyond that the gateway opened to the left. Garth
walked through and up to the secluded house. He glanced at the two
automobiles, near each other in the drive.

A tired-looking man in plain clothes lounged in the verandah. Another
with a languid air paced up and down at the side. They became animated
and converged on Garth, anxious to know if the inspector had got any
word of Randall.

While he was talking to them Garth first became aware of a mournful
undertone, sometimes punctuated by a shrill, despairing note, now
smothered in a heavy silence.

"What's that?" he asked sharply.

The men moved restlessly.

"Been listening to that music all day," one of them answered. "Lonely
hole! Who'd want to live here?"

"I see. Mrs. Randall," Garth said. "I'd hoped she'd be able to stand a
little talk by this time."

"Swell chance!" the man answered. "There's a high and mighty sawbones
with her who'd do murder himself before he'd let you get within a mile
of her. I'm sick of the rotten case. Nothing to it anyway."

"I'm going in, boys," Garth said. "Inspector told me everything had been
left."

One of the detectives handed him a key.

"Room'